



TRAILING & CAMPING 



Uk| 



M^?mgm 



■**?j 



®m 



fyfrj 



m 



^1 



BwwBa 



s 






IK3I1I 



HI 

H 

SH Sato 



ADDISON M. POWELL 








diss FcfCI*? 
Book ' Pffg 



PRESENTED 131 




C3 



TRAILING 
and CAMPING 
IN ALASKA 


By ADDISON M. POWELL 

fl 


NEW YORK 

WESSELS & BISSELL 

1910 



Ps?> 



Copyright, 1909, by 
NEWOLD PUBLISHING COMPANY 



November 



Kent Law Book Co* 
Jan. 22. 1937 



TEE PREMIER PRESS 
JTKW TORS 



This narrative is dedicated to the boys who clung 

to the alders while others left, condemning 

a country they knew nothing about. 



INTRODUCTION 

Hiyu Skookum! 

That is the Alaska Indian's expression for the in- 
comparable, and it is here used because the white 
tourist will borrow the exclamation when he stands 
amidst the largest group of high mountains on the 
globe — where flowers bloom beside the most won- 
derful glaciers ever seen by man; when he looks 
upward at the perpendicular precipice of Mount 
Sanford's southern face, a mile straight above, 
where eagles flying in front of their nests resemble 
sparrows; when he watches the spiral smoke and 
steam of Unaletta's volcano; or when he gazes at 
the rainbow-colored waterfalls that descend, appar- 
ently, from the heavens. 

This narrative was written by a follower of the 
trail, when there was one to follow, and not by a 
follower of a Longfellow, a Cooper or a Stevenson. 
It is told in the simple language of the trailers, and 
unnecessarily long words or elaborate descriptions 
have been avoided. In fact, many incidents which 
were commonplace to the author, but which might 
have proved interesting and unusual to the reader, 
have been curtailed or withheld in order not to in- 
terfere with the general character, or to become 
tedious by their added length. 



Introduction 



Hiyu Skookumf 

The mining man, also, will utter it to express his 
wonder when looking upon the most extensive min- 
eral deposits that nature has ever disclosed to view; 
when watching the working of the greatest gold- 
quartz mine in the world; when realizing that if all 
other copper and tin mines were closed down, Alaska 
alone could supply the demand; and that her in- 
fantile existence, thus far, has been signalized by the 
production of three hundred million dollars in value. 

The statesmen of the future will repeat it when 
Alaska is acknowledged to be richer in mineral 
wealth than all the states of the American Union 
put together; when it shall supply the whole of the 
United States with paper from its spruce forests, 
and fish from its waters; and when they appreciate 
its marvelous development since Secretary Seward 
was ridiculed for " buying an ice box." 

The naturalist will exclaim " Hiyu Skookum ! " 
when he beholds the prodigious growth of its vege- 
tation, or the bones of those gigantic animals which 
once wandered through its forests when the earth 
was younger, the crust thinner and the climate 
warmer. The reader is invited to come with me, in 
his imagination, and camp amidst scenes which words 
can but partly describe, and when he visits Alaska 
in person, he, too, will exclaim " Hiyu Skookum ! " 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

Meeting Captain I. N. West in San Francisco — De- 
cided to Go to Alaska — The Loss of the Helen 
W. Alma — Seattle Experiences — A Pleasure 
Voyage — Landing at Valdez ...... I 

CHAPTER II 

The Return of Captain West — The Hanging of Tan- 
ner — Big John's Experiences with a Mule — A 
Trip Down the Bay — The Adventure of an Im- 
prudent Man — A Mutual Understanding with a 
Bear 21 

CHAPTER III 

Crossing of the Valdez Glacier — A Profane Old Pros- 
pector — A Forest Fire — Along the Shore of 
Klutena Lake — A Tent Town of Salmon-dryers 
— Arrival at Copper Center 37 

CHAPTER IV 

Starting for the Alaskan Range — Swimming Horses 
Across the Copper River — An Indian Who Had 
Never Seen a White Man — A Marvelous Ex- 
hibition of Aurora Borealis — The Slahna River 
Country — Mentasta Pass 50 

CHAPTER V 

Among the Beaver Ponds — A Porcupine for Break- 
fast — Indian Albert's Camp — Creeping Up tp 
the Wrong Bear — Back to the Slahna — A Battle 
with a Raft and the Rapids 65 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER VI 



PAGE 



Boating down the Copper River — Through the 
Rapids — Cutting a Rope with a Bullet — By 
Eyak back to Valdez — A Survey in a Snow- 
storm — Death of the Glacier-mushers ... 77 



CHAPTER VII 

A Rough-sea Voyage — A Pioneer's History of Juneau 
— How Juneau got its Name — The Treadwell 
Mines — Social Hotel Companions — The Tarku 
Winds ...... .. .: . . . . 97 



CHAPTER VIII 

A Trip to Skagway — A Snoring Medley — Interview- 
ing an Old-timer — His Love for His Dog — Rid- 
ding the Town of the " Soapy Smith Gang " — 
The Murder of Bert Horten and Wife . . 108 

\ 

CHAPTER IX 

A Voyage to Sitka — Its Description and History — 
Interesting old Block Houses — Attending a 
Funeral — The Greek Catholic Church — A Beau- 
tifully Painted Picture 121 

CHAPTER X 

Indian Totem Poles — A Poetical Spot — A Pictur- 
esque Old Highway — Mt. Edgecomb — A Visit to 
Yakutat — Indian Girls Selling Trinkets Aboard 
our Steamer . 133 

CHAPTER XI 

The Visit of Scientists to Alaska — The Return to 
Valdez — A Brave Rescue — I Act as Guide — A 
Chafing Restraint — Others Rush to the Tanana 138 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XII 



PAGE 



Missing a Bear — Exploring the Tekeil — Killing a 
Goat — The Perilous Voyage of Five Adven- 
turers — A Sociable Bear — Starting on an Ex- 
ploring Trip into the Alaskan Range . . .. 146 

CHAPTER XIII 

In the Alaskan Range — The Indian Gokona Charley 
— In Sight of Captain West's Placers — The 
Snow-storm — The Ptarmigans — A Perilous Re- 
turn .. ............. ... . 160 

CHAPTER XIV 

The Rush of 1900 — A Remarkable Boy — The Loss 
of the Schooner — A Musical Prodigy — Astonish- 
ing an Indian — Astonished by an Indian . . 174 

CHAPTER XV 

Exploring During the Summer of 1900 — Ed. Dicky's 
Placid Temperament — Arrival at Slate Creek — 
A Peculiar Electric Storm — On the Head 
Waters of the Gokona — A Soliloquy . . . 186 

CHAPTER XVI 

The Doctor and his Porcupine — One Source of Two 
Rivers — Killing Two Bears and a Caribou — By 
Slate Creek to the Source of the Tanana — 
Crossing the Captain West Mud-glaciers — Kill- 
ing Two Mountain Sheep 199 

CHAPTER XVII 

A Grizzly Bear and a Foot-race — Exploring on the 
Nabezna River — A Lonely Grave and Its His- 
tory — The Suslota Indians — The Return to the 
Coast — Buying a Skeleton of a Horse . . . 212 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XVIII 

PAGE 

The Exhausted Stampeder — A Forest Fire — At. Slate 
Creek — On the Head-waters of the Shusitna 
River — Discovering Both Coal and Gold — Back 
to Hospital Camp ...... ... . ... .. 223 

CHAPTER XIX 

Killing Two Caribou — Meeting a Tenderfoot — 
Quiggly up a Tree — The Colonel's Story — The 
Rolling-hill Country — Summer Experiences of 
Alaska Prospectors . . 235 

CHAPTER XX 

" Shorty " Fisher Shot by an Indian — A Terrible 
Experience While Descending the Copper River 
— The Dangerous Ice-field — A Diet of Dog — 
Drifting Out to Sea — Bob Young's Dream . 249 

CHAPTER XXI 

In the Chitina River Country — Chititu Placers — The 
Photographing Party — The Discovery of the 
Bonanza Mine — A Great Copper Nugget — 
Prospecting Alone 259 

CHAPTER XXII 

Killing a Mountain Sheep — Temperament of Wild 
Animals — Good Morning to a Wolverine — Re- 
crossing the Copper River — Entertained by In- 
dians — The Return to the Coast .... 266 



CHAPTER XXIII 

The Ahtnas, or Stick Indians — Their Marriages and 
Superstitions — A Familiar Wail — An Interest- 
ing Peace Talk — A Philosophical Indian — His 
Prophecy 282 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XXIV 



PASS 



To the Head-waters of the Tanana — Three Bears — 
Killing a Mountain Goat — The Tanana Indians 
— A Foolish Experiment with a Grizzly — Agri- 
culture in the Copper River Valley . ., ... ... 296 

CHAPTER XXV 

A Night's Experiences — Killing a Grizzly — The 
Wolverine — A Fish Story — Experiences of 
James Germansen — Killing Six Mountain 
Goats 310 

CHAPTER XXVI 

The Life of the Mountain Goat — Watching One 
Make His Escape — A Female Grizzly with Three 
Cubs — Killing a Black Bear — Six Men Shot in 
Keystone Canyon — Other Fatalities . . . 327 

CHAPTER XXVII 

Reminiscences and Campfire Stories — Chris and Nick's 
Bear-fight — The Bear-hunted Doctor and His 
Mischievous Companion — Easy Marks in Seattle 
— Big Ben and His Raft . . . . . . 340 

CHAPTER XXVIII 

Leaving a Wonderland — The Storm — The Singers — 
Icy Straits — The Inside Voyage — Evidences of 
Prehistoric Mining in Alaska 356 

CHAPTER XXIX 

A Detective — Some Statistics — Down to California — 

The End of the Trail ...... 369 



TRAILING AND CAMPING 
IN ALASKA 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



CHAPTER I 

He has not lived in vain who has caused a smile to 
blossom on the face of another. 

It was partly because of that favorite motto of 
mine that this narrative, which is descriptive of ten 
years spent in exploring, hunting and prospecting in 
Alaska, has been written. Looking backward, 
across that interval, for beginnings, recalls an inci- 
dent that occurred in San Francisco in February, 
1898. One day during my stay there, I was accosted 
by John D. Ackerman, who was, at that time, Chief 
Clerk in the United States Surveyors' office, and 
who offered me an opportunity that was, indeed, as 
agreeable as it was flattering. 

" You're the very fellow I want to see. A man 
who is going to Alaska was in here this morning 
and asked me to recommend a Deputy United States 
Surveyor to go north with him. He proposes to 
bear all expenses, but he requires a man who is 
accustomed to roughing it and who is capable of 
frontiering it alone, if necessary. I told Him that 
you were in the city, and that I would ask you to 
call on him at the International Hotel.' ' 



2 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" Who is this man? " I inquired. 

" He is Captain I. N. West, who has been a 
prospector and quasi-explorer. He spent three years 
in South America, and two in Alaska. One year he 
was in the Shusitna River country, and the other 
year was spent in the Copper River region. He 
claims he found a great deposit of gold and now is 
returning for it." 

" When was he in that country? " 

" I believe it was some time in the eighties." 

" Well, it sounds rather fakish to me, but I shall 
call upon him this evening; that is one of those trips, 
you know, from which the best of us might never 
return." 

I called on Professor Davidson of the State Uni- 
versity, and from him obtained Lieutenant Allen's 
report of his trip through that country, because I 
desired to be prepared for false information, if this 
I. N. West should be inclined to give it. I confess 
I entertained doubts that any white man except 
Allen had ever been through that region. 

At seven P. M. I called at his hotel and found him 
waiting for me. Upon entering his room he re- 
quested some gentlemen to retire, as he said he had 
important business with me. He then closed and 
locked the door and moved a small table over to the 
back part of the room, and spread a blue print upon 
it. Before he proceeded with the subject, he desired 
to know, in the event of my rejecting his offer, if I 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 3 

would agree not to announce his secret for a limited 
time. He inquired also whether I ever had been be- 
wildered ; what I would take with me on such a trip ; 
the kinds of guns and ammunition, and even what 
kind of matches I would take along. 

During our talk I observed that he was a man of 
strong features and mentally pronounced him to be 
the one man among a thousand who would dare to 
undertake such a trip as he claimed to have made. 
He was more than six foot tall and gave his age as 
seventy-two years. He said he desired to locate 
some placer ground which he wished to have sur- 
veyed for patent, so that his family would be bene- 
fited thereby, as he expected never to return to that 
fabulously rich eldorado. He said : 

" Once I cleared eighty thousand dollars in the 
Black Hills country. I let my family have all 
but ten thousand, which I spent while looking for 
another rich placer deposit, and at the very last I 
found enough gold for all of us. Although it was 
far away in the wilds of Alaska, I have worked for 
years with the constant expectation of returning to 
it some day. I have endeavored vainly to get finan- 
cial aid, but the word Alaska has scared them 
away. 

" I failed to find what I was looking for, in 
South America. When I started for the Copper 
River country, I engaged nine Yakutat Indians to 
accompany me. One had been in that country, and 



4 Trailing and Camping in 'Alaska 

could talk the Indian language of that region, and 
he could talk very good English. We skirted the 
coast until we arrived at a point about half-way be- 
tween Malispina and Behring glaciers. From there 
we packed up the steep mountain range, crossed 
glaciers and descended a creek the Indians called 
Tana, meaning Trail, River. This emptied into the 
Chitina (Copper River) and it contained some 
placer gold, but owing to the glacier floods it is 
doubtful if it could be worked profitably. 

" As rapidly as the stock of provisions was con- 
sumed, I would send two Indians back. I con- 
tinued to do this until there was but one, my inter- 
preter, with me. We ascended a river called the 
Chitistone (Copper Rock) and went through a pass, 
south of Mt. Wrangell, over to the head of White 
River, crossing to the head of the Tanana, and 
finally to the head of the Ahtna, or the river now 
known as the Copper River. 

" At the southeast end of the Suslota Mountains, 
on the Tanana side, is where I tell my men that I 
have found the gold. Some old glacier moraines, 
which I call mud-glaciers, are there. You see I am 
compelled to tell them something, and if I should 
tell them the exact place, they would mutiny, and 
either go ahead or send some of their friends to beat 
me to it; so it is necessary that I guard against such 
trouble. 

u We lived on sheep meat and wild parsnip-root, 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 5 

until we arrived at Suslota Lake, and there we 
obtained all the dried salmon we could carry; 
after this we had fresh salmon nearly all the 
time. 

" We descended the outlet of the Suslota to the 
Slahna River, and there got a boat from some In- 
dians and drifted down to a grassy plot where there 
was an old Indian village, about three miles from 
the Copper River." 

" The maps mark the outlet of the Suslota as 
emptying into the Copper River and not the Slahna,'* 
I said. 

" There are no correct maps of that country, and 
Allen might have assumed it did that, but I say it 
empties into the Slahna about eight miles up from 
the mouth. Now, if you must wait for an appoint- 
ment for Alaska, as you say, and should come later 
with a horse, I want you to come direct to this old 
abandoned Indian town. iYou'11 find horse feed 
there, and I shall come down there every two weeks 
and pilot you to the discovery. I shall blaze a Cot- 
tonwood tree, facing and in sight of the old Indian 
wickiups, and shall write my name there, and at 
the foot I shall bury a little can in which there will 
be a note. 

" Well, we descended the Copper as far as the 
Chistochina River. There I discovered fine gold 
coming down that river, so we hid our raft in the 
brush, and spent two weeks up at the source. Now, 



6 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

I will say that there is some placer up there some- 
where, and I am going to leave my men in there to 
find it." 

The peculiar emphasis with which he said this, 
together with the twinkle of his eye, caused me to 
wonder if his discovery were not on the head waters 
of the Chistochina. 

" We returned as far as the Klutina River. From 
there we ascended to a lake which is about twenty 
miles long. Of course, there is no lake marked on 
the maps, but it is there, all the same. On the west 
side of this lake I am going to attempt to ascend a 
creek that leads over towards the Chistochina. I 
believe I can get through that way. From that lake 
we crossed the glacier over to Valdez Bay. We 
hoped to find a trading post there, but there was 
none, and we built a raft and floated with the tide, 
about twenty-five miles, to where we arrived at an 
Indian town. We were taken from here in bi- 
darkies to Nutchek. The Jeanie soon arrived there 
on her return from a whaling cruise, and on it I 
returned to San Francisco. 

" Now, let me tell you something about the dis- 
covery. The Indian found the first nugget, which 
he picked up with his hand. I then washed out con- 
siderable gold with my pan. I had to take it down 
nearly a quarter of a mile to where there was a little 
water at the junction of another creek. We found, 
on the mountain-side, a very rich pocket, and the In- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 7 

dian carried the gravel down in a sack. I continued 
to wash until I had panned out about six hundred 
dollars. The only thing that bothers me is the scarc- 
ity of water, but of course that is more plentiful in 
summer-time, as it was very late in the fall when we 
were there. Gold ! Why, man — come up there and 
I'll pay you, not only for your trouble, but you shall 
have an interest with me, for there is gold enough 
for all of us." 

" What direction did the drainage run from that 
mountain?" I asked. 

" The gulch draining the hillside where we found 
the gold, ran southeasternly and emptied into a 
creek that ran westward. Now, what do you say to 
the proposition? " 

To this I answered: 

" To-morrow I shall bring a friend with me by the 
name of Stephens. I want you to meet him, so 
that you can leave any word with him for me when 
up at Valdez Bay. I shall see him off on the next 
boat with my outfit, except my horse. I shall write 
my application to be appointed Deputy Mineral 
Surveyor for Alaska, for the purpose of surveying 
out some mining claims of I. N. West. That will 
be sent off to-morrow. I shall be in Valdez in June, 
and shall attempt to cross over into the Copper 
River valley with the military expedition that is 
going in there." 

I wired for Stephens, sent up my application, and, 



8 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

.within a week, I saw all hands off on the same boat. 
Sherman Stephens wanted adventure and so did I. 
Two months later, I was on my way to join the gold- 
seeking throng that was rushing northward, and I 
lingered for a few days in San Francisco before 
making the final plunge. While there the cry of a 
newsboy attracted my attention and I heard him 
say: 

" Total loss I The Helen W. Alma goes down 
with forty souls ! " 

This old boat had been chartered to go to Valdez, 
Alaska, but when it struck the heavy seaswells it 
broke up, and all on board were lost. The only 
sign of the ship that the sea ever gave up was some 
rotten driftwood that floated on the surface. 

This was the significant beginning of a life where 
the loss of one's comrades, I afterwards learned, 
would be a common occurrence. About every old 
sea relic had been put into commission to accommo- 
date the northward rush. A short time after this, 
the Jane Falkenburg was abandoned on the coast of 
Behring Sea; the Jane Gray broke up in mid-ocean 
and many lives were lost ; and the Mermaid, another 
old sea-coffin, was wrecked on the coast of Vancouver 
Island. 

I traveled a thousand miles overland to Seattle, 
the metropolis of the northwest. Never again will 
that city be filled with such a mongrel lot of tran- 
sients. They hailed from everywhere and were 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 9 

dressed in all sorts of clothes. What the merchants 
advised them to buy for their northern trip was pur- 
chased without question. They bought furs and 
striped and variegated mackinaw clothing, and 
proud of their purchases, paraded the streets in 
most fantastic costumes. 

I attempted to demonstrate that " a fool and his 
money are soon parted " by purchasing a cigar and 
burning some of mine. I invited a short, pumpkin- 
seed-shaped man to have one also. He had no legs 
to speak of, that is, they only had sprouted and then 
had evidently become discouraged and stopped 
growing. He said: 

" How mad it does make me to have one of 
those gold-crazed idiots ask to what part of the 
North I am going! Why, I came near whipping a 
fellow yesterday who asked me that question. I 
tell you," and his neck began to swell, as he pounded 
his left hand with the clenched fist of the other, " I 
am going to remain right here, for no other purpose 
but to see the disappointed expression on the faces 
of those fooled fellows when they return from the 
North. That is what / am going to do ! " 

I walked over to a friend who was going North 
and said: 

" I have discovered a curiosity and want you to 
examine it." 

" Is it an animal? " he asked. 

" Yes. Do you see that stump of a human with his 



10 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

hat drawn down near to his boot tops and smoke 
puffing from under it?" 

"Yes." 

" Well, you will do me a favor if you will talk 
with him until you can find out to which part of the 
North he is going. You see, he is trying to keep it 
a secret, by pretending that he is not going North, 
but you can explain that you heard that he posi- 
tively was going. You should be able to worm it 
out of so short a sawed-off block as that." 

" I'll just enter the ring for one round, for your 
sake," he answered, and he approached the man. 

They appeared to talk very earnestly for a while, 
then again I noticed the swelling of the little fel- 
low's neck and he began to pound his left hand, and 
I heard him say: 

" I have told you three times that I am not going 
North, and by " 

I had turned away, and failed to hear any more. 
Presently my friend came by me and as he did so 
he muttered: 

"I'll be durned!" 

He acted, after that incident, as if he thought 
I was trying to get him into trouble. It was several 
hours before I ventured to ask him what luck he had 
had in getting information from the man who lived 
so near mother earth, and then he replied : 

" Do you suppose that I am such an idiot as to 
want the reputation of being whipped by that little 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 11 

sawed-off block of insolence whose excuse for living 
cannot be seen below his hip-pockets? " 

I said: "It is remarkable that a man in Seattle 
should openly deny that he cared to go North. 
Would you believe that I could shoot in any direc- 
tion without hitting a man who intends to go to 
Alaska or to the Klondike?" 

" Are you going to shoot? " 

" No, I was only using the expression in a com- 
parative way." 

" I guess if you should let fly into that crowd 
across the street, you probably would wing a dozen 
of them." 

And I walked over to the crowd to see the at- 
traction. It proved to be one of the many patented 
devices for " saving " gold, for sale in nearly 
every block in town, and finding ready purchasers. 
Experienced miners walked up, peeped at the ma- 
chine, smiled and then walked away. There was 
one young man, however, who had made himself 
conspicuous by loading an express wagon down with 
rockers, plates, etc. My companion, who had been 
a life-long prospector, volunteered some informa- 
tion, saying: 

" My dear sir, you must have a mine already dis- 
covered? " 

" No," he replied, " I have never been in a min- 
ing country in my life." 

" Then wouldn't it be advisable first to secure a 



12 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

mine to work, before making such extensive pur- 
chases? " was asked. 

" Now, see here, old fellow, do you think I'm 
fool enough to be going North for fun ? Do I look 
like it? I will tell you, right now, sir, I'm going to 
have a mine before I am in Alaska six weeks." 

" I sincerely hope you will, but are you not aware 
that an ordinary sluice-box is all that a miner needs 
for washing out placer gold?" 

" Very well, please tell me what a sluice-box looks 
like, and where I can get one, and I will buy that, 
too." 

The foolish fellow was buying everything any 
one suggested, and knew no more about mining than 
did his shadow. There were hundreds of that par- 
ticular kind going North. Seattle hotel men and 
merchants were reaping a harvest. Even pickpock- 
ets were doing a lucrative business, as that city had 
a so-called Klondike of its own. The few days 
spent in Seattle were amidst surging, wild-eyed 
stampeders, who were hopefully roofing castles in 
the air. Most of those visionaries returned from the 
North within six months, dejected, tattered and for- 
lorn, indicating by their appearance the many hard- 
ships they had endured and their dire disappoint- 
ments. 

I left Seattle on May 1 2, on the steamer Valencia, 
with my outfit, horses and hopes. That steamer was 
afterwards wrecked on the coast of Vancouver, Jan. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 13 



25, 1906, with a loss of 133 lives. We glided over 
Puget Sound, so named after Lieutenant Puget, and 
landed at Nanaimo, B. C, where we spent a day, 
coaling. A few passengers visited the mines, while 
others wandered about and smelled the dogwood 
blossoms as large as saucers. After sailing two 
days along the coast of Vancouver, and other 
islands, we left British waters by crossing Dixon's 
Entrance and entering Alaska. Dixon was another 
English navigator whose explorations assisted the 
British in a contest with Russia, France and Spain 
for the Pacific seaboard. 

We stopped at Hunter Bay, Alaska, for several 
days, unloading supplies at a fish cannery. Here the 
Indians swarmed over the boat, and peeped in at 
the dining-room and cushioned seats, grunting their 
astonishment, and clucking, snorting and spitting 
that gutteral language of theirs at each other. The 
language of the coast Siwash is a combination of 
Chinook, Aleut, facial grimaces and snorts. One 
would think it impossible to talk the conglomeration 
without choking, unless trained to it from infancy, 
but it isn't. A handsome young woman, who was 
teaching a mission school near by, came on board, 
and the fluency with which she exhibited her lin- 
guistic accomplishment in the tongue of the Siwash 
was astonishing. Such an attempt would have given 
me the lockjaw. 

I saw a white squaw, who had light colored hair 



14 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and blue eyes, possibly a quarter-blood, sitting in a 
dug-out canoe. She would not speak a word of 
English and deserved pity, as she had a very dark 
Indian for a husband and several equally dark chil- 
dren. 

This Hunter Bay is in a more southern latitude 
than are the cities of Moscow, St. Petersburg, 
Stockholm, Copenhagen, Glasgow and Edinburg. 
From Hunter Bay to Point Barrow, Alaska, the dis- 
tance equals that from Chicago to New Orleans. 
From here to Alaska's most western island is as far 
as across the United States from Savannah to Los 
Angeles. The climate of Hunter Bay is more uni- 
form than at any place in the United States east of 
the Rocky Mountains, and its winter is warmer than 
that of most of the Southern States. 

While here, the slow, continuous rain, so charac- 
teristic of Alaska's coast, began falling. We pas- 
sengers went hunting and killed nothing. We be- 
came familiar, however, with swampy hillsides 
where moss held water like a sponge, and we found 
devil clubs and skunk cabbages. Devil clubs are a 
thorny exemplification of the Imp, and, if touched, 
will leave little needles, about the size of those of a 
cockleburr, to be picked out of the fingers for a week 
after. The skunk cabbage is a favorite food of 
wild geese and ducks. Occasionally a spruce hen 
flew among the trees, and deer beds were seen here 
and there, at the roots of the hemlock and spruce. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 15 

The gloomy weather impressed us with dismal 
forebodings, but our impressions of grandeur and 
sublimity were yet to come. When we left Hunter 
Bay, the steamer gave three long whistles that 
echoed from mountain to mountain, from canyon to 
canyon and across the smooth water. 

The charm of Alaska began gradually to steal 
upon us. We gazed for days at the mountains and 
their reflections on the water. We watched the 
boiling wake of the ship, the ripple forming a V, 
the prow of our boat being the apex. The distant 
lines of the ripples washed the shore on both sides. 
One never tires looking at the scenery of an inside 
voyage to Alaska. It is then, if ever, one enjoys a 
good smoke, and is willing to share the pipe of 
peace with all mankind. The inside passage, as here 
referred to, is the route that leads behind the islands 
from Puget Sound to Sitka, and is away from the 
ocean swells. 

We glided through Wrangell Narrows and past 
old Fort Wrangell, where the Russian Baron Ferdi- 
nand P. Von Wrangell defied the British and by the 
firing of cannon disputed their right to land. His 
long name would have been sufficient for me. I know 
I could never fire on a name like that. This act of 
his probably saved Alaska for the United States, 
for, if the Russian bear had been less aggressive, 
Canada would now hold the preponderance of North 
America. The dispute was finally settled in 1839. 



16 Trailing and Camping in ^Alaska 

Aggressive Englishmen show great self-reliance 
when traveling with authority from home. It has 
been said that Warren Hastings, when he went to 
India to collect a fine which had been levied on the 
Rajah, sent for the Rajah to come aboard his vessel 
and he came. Hastings was more fortunate in In- 
dia than were the Englishmen, Derzhaven and Ber- 
nard, in Alaska. They sent for the Chief of the 
Koyukans to come to their camp and bring them his 
two daughters. This chief was unused to being sent 
for, but he came, declaring that " the salmon would 
drink blood before they returned to the sea." Yes. 
He came, but he introduced himself by cutting out 
the intestines of the over-confident Englishmen and 
burying their bodies on the bank of the ; Yukon. 

Such thoughts came to us as we glided among 
mountains clothed with spruce forests at the foot, 
and their bald heads with white caps. The scenery 
did not change until we arrived at Sitka, on the edge 
of the wide ocean, then Alaska's capital. From 
Sitka we crossed to Prince William Sound, and for 
forty-eight hours our vessel rolled and pitched, and 
so did we, both without and within, with no land in 
sight except the distant tips of Mounts Fairweather 
and St. Elias. 

A dyspeptic friend of mine on board was so 
sure he would be seasick that probably he had been 
ill with apprehension for a week before he had em- 
barked on this voyage. He retired to a room that 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 17 

the purser had assigned him, evidently for the pur- 
pose of being sea-sick, but it was not the room his 
ticket called for. I had endeavored to persuade him 
to go ashore at Nanaimo, at Hunter Bay and at 
Sitka, but he would not, because it might interfere 
with his expected sea-sickness. 

He and the purser were almost mortal enemies. 
He stubbornly demanded the room that his ticket 
called for, then occupied by some ladies, even if the 
purser threw the women overboard. He was dis- 
satisfied with the unlucky number of the one he was 
then occupying, and was desperate. With a resolve 
to make peace, I visited this invalid, and solemnly 
announced that the purser was regaining his mind. 

"How is that?" was asked. I had done this 
to excite his curiosity, and therefore continued: 

" The poor fellow has become nearly insane from 
having fallen over a precipice of love, and fearing 
a relapse, his people have secured this position for 
him, hoping that it may assist him on the road to 
recovery." 

" Are you positive about that? " he asked. 

" Certainly. I have known him for years, and am 
pleased to observe that he is recovering," I an- 
swered. 

" I was sure that something was the matter with 
him all the time," replied the invalid. 

Then I went on deck and accosting the purser, 
said: 



18 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" See here, purser, that invalid friend of 
mine " 

" Hold on there ! " announced the purser, " he is 
no invalid! " 

" Yes, my dear fellow, he is in mind. Now I will 
give you this information in strictest confidence. He 
bogged down in pure love not long since and it has 
so affected his mind that his people have sent him 
along in my charge, hoping that the change and 
trip would benefit him. Of course we know he 
should be locked up, but I hope that in time he may 
fully recover. I am telling you this, so that you may 
be prepared for any sudden turn he may take, and 
hope you will be as considerate with him as possible." 

" Well, well ! Isn't it singular, I never thought 
of that?" said the purser. "Why, any one could 
see from another ship that he was insane! It's just 
as plain as day, now. Say, I am much obliged to 
you for that information." 

There, I had gained friendship by sinfully lying, 
but the Good Book has blessed the peacemakers. If 
I could only manage to keep peace between these 
two, I was satisfied. The next day I visited my 
friend and found him really sick. To console him 
I told him that Longfellow had loved the sea so well 
he had written 

" How often — Oh, how often 

I have wished that the ebbing tide 
Would bear me away on its bosom 
To the ocean wild and wide ! " 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 19 

This sick friend of mine then raised himself and 
said: 

" Longfellow was a blamed fool ! " 

The conversation was then turned to the purser. 
He assured me that the purser was rapidly recover- 
ing his mental faculties, as he had visited him, and 
had found him in the best of humor. 

When again we were on quiet water, the purser 
approached and said: 

" Say, that was a capital idea sending that fellow 
up here. He is rapidly getting better, and he is a 
nice sort of chap, I imagine, when in his right 
mind." 

This incident made me wonder if affairs in the 
world would not turn more smoothly if each indi- 
vidual treated all others with proper regard to pos- 
sible mental weaknesses. 

Another personal friend on this ship was remark- 
ably tall and slim. He was long for this world, but 
had a slim chance. When we were on quiet water 
he was conspicuous, but he absented himself so suc- 
cessfully when the sea was rough, that I entertained 
the fear he had fallen overboard. As our boat 
floated smoothly on Valdez Bay, he reappeared, very 
much resembling a rawhide string that had been 
watersoaked and then stretched to its limit and dried. 
As he stood on the bow of our vessel, I suggested 
that the people would imagine he was our flagpole. 
He replied dramatically that he was no flagpole, 



20 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

but a living demonstration of the geometrical per- 
pendicular. 

We landed, May 29, 1898, in the little tent town 
of Valdez, which is about three thousand miles north 
and west of San Francisco. At this time my only 
possessions were a year's supply of provisions and 
twenty-five cents in money. The only cash transac- 
tion that I performed during the first summer in 
Alaska, was the transferring of that quarter from 
one pocket to another. I did that with due consid- 
eration, conservatism and business acumen, deliber- 
ately studying the possible loss through bad pockets 
and otherwise. 



CHAPTER II 

// the climate of Alaska is a tonic, many have lost their 
lives taking overdoses of it, 

Mr. Stephens came on board and informed me 
that Captain West had returned after a vain attempt 
to reach his discovery. He had become very ill and 
had been hauled out on a sled; in a very weak con- 
dition he had been placed on a steamer that was de- 
parting for the States. He had asked when I was 
expected, and had murmured : 

" Oh, if I only could talk to him ! " 

I landed the next day after he had departed. It 
is probable that if we had met he would have dis- 
closed to me the exact locality of his discovery. 
However, I resolved to remain with the country and 
make an attempt to find it, and, if successful, to see 
that he or his heirs shared a portion of it. 

The ice had broken up and had left him stranded 
in the Tazlina country. It was reported that West 
died soon after arriving home. 

The great Valdez glacier appeared to be at the 
edge of the little tent town, but really it was five 
miles away. The mountains appeared scarcely a 
mile from us, and from twelve to fifteen hundred feet 
high, yet they were from three to five miles distant 
and from three to five thousand feet in altitude. 

21 



22 Trailing and Camping in "Alaska 

About four thousand people had landed there, 
three thousand or more of them had crossed the 
glacier, and many had recrossed during the last 
month to return home disgusted. The hungry 
glacier had been the death of some of them and its 
cracks were gaping for more. We felt that we were 
up against the toughest proposition of our lives and 
those who had been there a month knew that we 
were. 

Most of those who had come to prospect were no 
more adapted to the vocation than a coyote would be 
to herd sheep. That Alaskan trail wound over the 
glacier, where young and old, the wise and other- 
wise, the opulent and the poverty-stricken traveled 
together. Primogeniture labels were at a discount. 
Many seemed inspired only by the incentive to es- 
cape from that eternal bondage of civilization which 
makes servants of us all — even down to the demands 
of etiquette. There were avaricious dreamers, 
" spirit-haunted with ominous sounds of clink- 
ing coin, and the metallic laughter of grimacing gob- 
lin accountants." Men of talent and virility were on 
their way possibly to the sacrifice of everything, in- 
cluding their lives, among those mountains of soli- 
tude — and all for the alien god of gold. The 
strenuous spirit was here as a delirious reality. 

There were a few amusing incidents that occasion- 
ally relieved the homesick ones at Valdez. A Colo- 
rado man had a mule which insisted on leading every 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 23 

one that took hold of his rope. The obstinacy of 
remote generations had been developed to this final 
combination of horse and donkey, where Nature 
has decreed it a useless waste of energy to allow the 
joke to continue beyond the mule. One of the picked 
men, " Big " John, who had been detailed with 
Captain, now Colonel J. R. Abercrombie, of the 
United States Army, to explore the Copper River 
country, possessed the one cardinal characteristic of 
the mule which enabled him to hold on to a thing, 
but it was with difficulty he could let loose. 

It was decided to teach the mule to submit to the 
control of man by allowing " Big " John to do the 
dictating. As " Big " John took hold of the rope, 
the mule concluded to do some dictating himself. 
He immediately started down the trail, which had 
been worn about three feet deep in snow that had 
not yet melted away. As the rope tightened, John's 
feet went high in air and his back acted as a sled- 
runner. 

" Here we go ! " yelled John. 

As he approached our tent he added: 

" Here we come! " 

As he crossed a small stream of water and scooted 
spray on his locomotive in front, he loudly an- 
nounced : 

" We've crossed the creek! " Then he added: 

" Head us off ! " 

Several men ran to where the trails crossed and, 



24 Trailing and Camping in ^Alaska 

by waving hats caused the mule to shy at right 
angles, and John called back: 

" We took the other trail ! " 

When the mule and John were finally stopped, 
John stood up, wiped some blood off his hands and 
remarked : 

" WeVe had a h— 1 of a time ! " 

Those soldiers had been detailed to explore the 
route from Valdez to the Yukon. They were con- 
spicuous in their efforts, and often returned from ex- 
ploring trips without food and with very little cloth- 
ing. 

Every out-going steamer was loaded down with 
the quitters, who, as prospectors, were helpless in- 
competents. To avoid being ridiculed, they pre- 
tended to be returning for horses, larger outfits or 
more assistance from home. One young man, to 
have an excuse, said he was returning for more ciga- 
rette papers. One man there thought his outfit com- 
plete with five sacks of beans and one sack of flour. 
He was referred to as " the Bostonian," although 
he said he came from St. Paul. 

We began to long for home cooking. One crowd 
complained to their cook, " Cockney Jim," and de- 
manded pie. 

" Pie ! " exclaimed Jim. 

When he recovered from the shock, he stuffed 
dried fruit between two flapjacks and sewed the 
edges together with a twine string, and the feat was 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 25 

accomplished, to the credit of " Cockney Jim " ever 
after. 

When a man was seen whittling, it generally was 
conceded to be an indication that he was going out 
on the next boat. Hundreds daily trailed into town, 
so foot-sore, after traveling over that twenty-eight 
miles of solid ice, that their crippling walk caused 
them to be referred to as " The Glacier Striders." 
Those who came over during the melting of the snow 
had lost their outfits, either while boating the Klu- 
tena rapids, or before they had arrived at Klutena 
Lake. 

The snow that covered the crevasses had become 
too rotten to be safe, and those who crossed told of 
jumping cracks with spring-poles. If they had 
slipped they would have been put in cold storage for- 
ever, hundreds of feet below. The glacier was a 
succession of sharp ridges, with deeply washed ero- 
sions on each side, which made them nearly im- 
passable. Men who crossed over claimed that all 
of Alaska's gold would not tempt them to do so 
again. They had felt secure while crossing in win- 
ter, but had not suspected the dangers that are pre- 
sented in summer. 

Two men, named Eddy and White, of Los An- 
geles, California, to obviate the necessity of going 
around a large crevasse, crossed on a bank of snow 
that was clinging to the opposite side. Often the 
wind drifts these snow-cappings across a crack in 



26 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

such a manner that it is thick on one side and runs 
to a feather-edge on the other. At this place 
the snow had melted away until it had left a 
space of four feet between it and the ice on their 
side. 

" I believe I'll test the strength of that snow by 
jumping onto it," announced Eddy. 

" Well, if it doesn't hold, you can figure out why 
it failed to hold while you are dropping down 
through that cold space below," replied White. 

" I'm going to jump and leave the figuring to you, 
so here goes ! " 

White stood in trembling astonishment while 
Eddy made the leap. It held! Eddy crossed in 
safety and called back: 

"Have you got it figured out, White?" 

" Yes, but I am going to lighten my load by send- 
ing my thoughts to heaven before making that 
leap." 

White followed safely. After they had walked 
but a few steps, they looked back and were amazed 
to discover that they had jarred the snow bank loose 
and it had fallen in. 

The unusually late snowfall had caused slides to 
descend the mountains with roars of destruction. 
Never before or since have I heard such roaring as 
broke the silence of the mountains during the spring 
of 1898. We knocked at those mountain barriers 
for admission to the interior, and they, like the gates 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 27 

of hell described by Milton, " grated harsh thun- 
der " in response. 

While some people were camped beside the trail 
on the glacier, near the foot of the mountain, they 
heard the approach of an avalanche. Most of them 
escaped, but eight were dug out from beneath that 
snow-slide and two were dead. One profane old 
prospector cursed when he heard it coming, but it 
was too late, and he was buried under it. When he 
was rescued he cursed again. When I mentioned 
the glacier to him in Seattle, ten years after this in- 
cident, he swore some more. 

There was a little Llewellyn puppy dug from that 
snow-slide. He came out with his head and tail up, 
and has had them up most of the time since. He 
lived to acknowledge me as his friend and master, 
for he became my trail companion for years. He is 
retired now on a life pension in California, and when 
we meet he acts as if he thought we were the two 
best dogs that ever ascended the Copper River. 

Connecticut furnished a visionary company made 
up of persons who were distinguished from the 
others by having brought a steam-sled. All they 
wanted was to have the right direction pointed out 
to them, and they would steam over the glacier, 
ascend the Copper River, and stampede Indians, 
white men and every other thing encountered. 
Strangers, after looking at the ponderous affair, re- 
tired to a safe distance with an expression of mis- 



28 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

giving. When the machine was steamed up and 
properly directed, the owners looked at each other 
disappointedly, for it failed to move. They applied 
the full limit of steam and it stood still some more, 
while the joke began to settle on Connecticut. The 
citizens should preserve that steam sled from van- 
dalism as an evidence of the rushers of 1898. It 
had the record of being the first automobile in 
Alaska and was never guilty of exceeding the speed 
limit. 

Peace and good deportment were the general 
rules here. Although there was a man hanged for 
killing two others, the lesson evidently affected all 
those who traveled that trail. This hanging was 
performed by the first crowd to land on Valdez 
Beach. 

The man who was hanged claimed that his name 
was " Doc " Tanner. He had joined a party of eight 
which had hailed from Massachusetts. One of the 
number by the name of Thorpe, so it was said, had 
become so indolent as well as overbearing towards 
the quiet-mannered Tanner, that the final culmina- 
tion was a shooting scrape. This party of eight was 
known as the Lynn party, and as they had " grub- 
staked " Tanner, because he had camp-life experi- 
ence, they insisted that he perform the drudgery. 

Thorpe, Call and Lee, members of the party, were 
in consultation about dismissing Tanner, because of 
the scarcity of supplies, and turning him out to shift 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 29 

for himself. This party and a few others had been 
the first to land, and to be turned out without any- 
thing at this time, in mid-winter, meant death. Tanner 
overheard the conversation, and drawing his gun 
walked into the tent where they were and began 
shooting. Call and Lee were instantly killed by 
being shot through the head, but as the candle 
was extinguished then, the third shot missed Thorpe, 
who fell over, and he, the one Tanner most desired 
to kill, escaped. 

Tanner, thinking he had killed all three, surren- 
dered his revolver to W. S. Amy. There was a 
meeting of a few who were there, and Tanner was 
given a fair trial, with a man by the name of King 
acting as chairman. After Thorpe was sworn and 
testified, the Judge said: 

" Tanner, step forward." 

Tanner walked to the front and quietly began 
rolling a cigarette. 

"What is your name?" inquired King. 

" Well, Judge, I guess this-here name of Tanner 
will answer me for the rest of my days, which, from 
the looks of this crowd, seem to be very few," an- 
swered Tanner, looking straight at the Judge. 

" Did you hear Thorpe tell his story just now? " 

" Well, I guess I did." 

"What have you to say to it? Did he tell the 
truth?" 

" iYes, I reckon he did," drawled Tanner. 



30 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" Do you mean to say you killed those men with- 
out a reason or cause? " 

11 Well, Judge," he replied, " that is just accord- 
ing to the way you look at it. You see, this-here 
bunch of shoemakers picked me up at Seattle when I 
was broke, and because they financed me a few dol- 
lars to enable me to get up to this God-forsaken 
country, they thought they owned me. They seemed 
to think that I should do all the dirty work, and I 
stood for it, but when I overheard their plans to 
chuck me out, like a dog, and cut me off from camp 
— me, a white man, with nothing but this cold 
white world about, and from that herd of maver- 
icks from Massachusetts, too, why, — -then some kind 
of buzzin' gets into my head and I saw red, and I 
just swiped out my gun and let 'em have it." 

At this statement he quietly began puffing his 
cigarette. 

" Is that all you have to say? " asked the Judge, 
after a moment's silence. " Have you any folks, 
or is there anything you wish to tell about your- 
self?" 

" No, I reckon not," replied Tanner. " I have 
been kicked from hell to breakfast ever since I can 
remember, and there are none to sit up nights wor- 
rying about me; so if you fellows are going to hang 
me, better go ahead and have it over." 

A vote was taken, and it was decided unanimously 
to hang Tanner. He was led to a leaning cotton- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 31 

wood tree, where he was asked for his last statement. 
He answered: 

" Nothing, except that you are hanging the best 
pistol shot that ever came to Alaska." 

Thorpe attempted to place the rope around Tan- 
ner's neck, but appeared too weak, and trembled 
with fright, possibly because he knew that he in a 
measure had been to blame. He was pushed to one 
side by a stronger man, and soon Tanner's body was 
dangling in the air. 

His body was buried beneath the tree, not far 
from where were buried the two bodies of Call and 
Lee. The true name of Tanner probably never will 
be known, but like many another man whose iden- 
tity has been lost in the western swirl, his friends 
will never learn what became of him. 

The almost continuous sunshine of June caused the 
snow to disappear quickly. Vegetation grew more 
rapidly than would be expected outside of the tropics. 
Persons from southern climes cannot realize the 
rapid growth of the grass during Alaska's summer. 
The Alaska salmon-berry bushes bloomed, and the 
magpies and robins made their appearance. The 
June days increased in length until the nights were 
not worthy of the name. Even the chickens, that 
had been brought up there by Mr. and Mrs. Beatty, 
appeared to me to become bow-legged, while stand- 
ing around waiting for darkness to indicate their 
roosting-time. We could read common print at mid- 



32 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

night on the 21st day of June, and it was as much 
like a cloudy day as it was like the twilight. 

I took a trip down the bay in the company of two 
soldiers, and we rowed down in a " take-down " tin 
boat. It was so bolted together that if a nut should 
come off, or a bolt break, there would be nothing left 
to hold up the passengers except their hats. This 
trap managed afterwards to drown two men. 

The accompanying photograph shows what an 
inhospitable looking country this was for persons to 
pitch camp, yet a month later, at the time when we 
took this trip, it looked very differently. 

This beautiful land-locked Bay of Valdez quietly 
nestled between high mountains that reflected their 
outlines in its mirror-like surface. The wild ducks 
rested here and there with their heads under their 
wings; away off on one side, near the shore, a flock 
of sea gulls noisily applauded some wise remark of 
an old coot ; and the voice of the loon could be heard 
above the others. 

We had crossed a stretch of nine miles of water 
when we landed on a grassy nook at the foot of a 
precipitous mountain spur. After supper, one of the 
trio attempted to climb to a ledge of white spar, that 
plainly could be seen from the camp. After an 
hour's hard work of clinging to moss-covered rocks, 
he succeeded in arriving at the place, but it proved 
a disappointment to the prospector. He then saw 
he could not descend without eyes in his toes. If 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 33 

he could ascend a few hundred feet he might lower 
himself down a draw by the assistance of scattering 
alder brush. Another hour was spent in getting to 
that place, only to discover a precipice in the ex- 
pected way of descent. 

There was another slim chance left, and that was 
to continue climbing for the top of the spur, far 
above. No living man could have clung to the face 
of that precipice a minute, if it had not been for the 
moss that was rooted in the small crevices. He 
continued climbing until about 10 P. M., when he 
paused to look down on the campfire and the water, 
far below, a distance of fully one thousand feet. He 
felt a sickness coming over him, so he changed his 
gaze to the rock wall, a foot from his face. 

A gun was fired down at camp, and this adven- 
turer clung to the precipice with one hand, drew 
his revolver with the other and answered it. That 
would prove to his companions that he was in hear- 
ing distance and not calling for help, for if so, he 
would have fired first. He was not directly above 
camp, and the loose rocks would go bumping and 
tumbling down until out of hearing. 

When near the summit, he found himself against 
a perpendicular wall, about twelve feet high. There 
appeared to be a small bench on top of this, where 
he could rest if once there. He rested on a large 
rock that lay at the foot of the wall; with his knife 
he then cut niches for finger and toe holds. Hold- 



34 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

ing on to these, he climbed up and worked at dig- 
ging a trench through the moss on the rim above, 
so that when up there, he could draw his body 
through. He was compelled to descend to the rock 
occasionally and brush the weight of detritus from 
it; for that shaky rock was liable to fall out of its 
position, and if it did, his life would be lost. 

After he had finished his work above, he de- 
scended to the rock for a long rest before the final 
effort. He then nerved himself, placed his fingers 
in the niches, and drew himself from the rock which, 
with the pressure of the departing foot, said good- 
bye and went bumping down, down, down. The 
man was left clinging to his niches, hope, future 
and life above, with jagged rocks, more than a 
thousand feet of space, the deep sea and sure death 
below. 

Large drops of sweat came out on his forehead 
as he steadily worked up, up, and held with one 
hand while he dug the other in the moss above. 
Half of his body finally rested on the edge while 
the other half hung in space without a foothold, 
and it seemed impossible to extricate himself from 
that position until he spied an alder an inch in diam- 
eter, which had grown on this little flat bench appar- 
ently for the only purpose of extending assistance on 
this occasion. Its strength was tried, and it enabled 
the climber to pull himself up and to rest on this ten- 
by-ten mossy bed alongside of the alder, where he 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 35 

thought of childhood days, friends far away and his 
own folly. 

There was but one way out of this place, and that 
was along a narrow shelf about one hundred feet to 
the westward which ended on the sloping ridge. 
There was a perpendicular precipice below and a 
jagged wall above. Along the side of this wall one 
could rub his body, by holding on to those jagged 
places and watching for secure footing on the six- 
inch path. He took off his shoes and attempted that 
sloping path, but it was necessary not to look down 
from his dizzy height to the distant campfire. 

The feat was accomplished finally and this thank- 
ful mortal lay on the green grassy ridge in complete 
collapse. His aneroid barometer recorded 2140 
feet above the sea, and his watch indicated 12.30 
A. M. 

Alaska's June midnight made it unnecessary to 
light a match to take those readings. He then at- 
tempted to walk out on a point where, by holding to 
an alder, he could look at the dizzy scene below, but 
he could not, — he had lost his nerve. Before this 
incident, if I had been told that a man could scale 
that precipice, I would have considered my informer 
« — if not too large — a liar. Eight years after this 
incident a young doctor fell hundreds of feet to his 
instant death while attempting to climb the summit 
of that same range. 

I descended along this spur, swinging from one 



36 Trailing and Camping in "Alaska 



alder to another, and once more found myself on 
level ground. There a bear and myself were placed 
in an awkward position, but by judicious manage- 
ment we avoided further embarrassment. He snorted 
once and I snorted three times; he ran in one direc- 
tion and I ran in another. Snorts were not the pass- 
words of our society. I arrived in camp in time for 
breakfast, and a third solemn resolve was made 
never to be caught on the face of another precipice. 



CHAPTER III 

Mosquitoes have hatched out on glaciers and so have 
other kinds of trouble. 

Portable bridges were placed across the glacier 
cracks to enable Lieutenant Lowe to cross with 
horses, on July 13. Stephens accompanied him on 
this trip with the first pack-train to go from Valdez 
to the Yukon. This glacier melts away at the lower 
end, or recedes, about 60 feet each year. It is prob- 
able that it was breaking off into the bay 300 years 
ago, and in about A. D. 2500 those who care to do 
so may be able to ride through this scarified canyon 
without encountering any ice, but we belonged to 
the stampeding age and could not wait. 

Napoleon's cavalry crossed the Alps and Aber- 
crombie's crossed the Valdez glacier. This ex- 
pedition, accompanied by several adventurous pros- 
pectors, left on the 5th of August. The amount 
of first-class profanity that gushed from ordinarily 
moral men, under the provoking circumstances, was 
astonishing. The same voluble profane prospector, 
who had been rescued from the snow-slide, was with 
us. He laboriously contended with the argumenta- 
tive disposition of a donkey having a will of its own, 
and that fact added materially to the driver's al- 
ready extensive vocabulary. 

3T 



38 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

The old prospector slipped upon his first attempt 
to climb the ice, and then and there he opened his 
dictionary of profanity and swore that he never was 
moral and never intended to be. A neatly dressed 
young lady, who was taking camera pictures with 
the party, happened to be near when there was 
trouble, and she heard swearing according to ritual. 
All kinds of maledictions were applied to the donkey, 
which had a good case of libel, for he reflected upon 
her moral character and endowed her with certain 
attributes of the cow. When he discovered the 
camera girl within a few feet of him, the old pros- 
pector apologized by swearing he " didn't know a 
woman was along." 

That effort was too much for him, however, 
for he slipped, fell and slid several feet, and then 
he " did " swear in earnest. The ice was an ethereal 
blue, but not half so highly colored as was the 
atmosphere immediately surrounding that pros- 
pector. 

" A picture of this scene would be incomplete 
without a phonograph," she remarked as she walked 
away. 

All day we trudged on solid ice and jumped yawn- 
ing crevasses. We camped on the ice during that 
short August night, as it was too dark to travel. The 
spring snow-slides and glacial hydraulics had de- 
posited huge boulders on this ice river, and they had 
melted large wells straight down. A few of those 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 39 

wells were closed, or, like an inverted cone, had 
gradually narrowed to a point and now were filled 
with water. The rock that had formed this kind 
of a well had melted its way down, while the well 
had closed gradually behind it by freezing. Streams 
of water poured into the apparently bottomless ones, 
and into some of those we dropped large rocks, but 
never heard one strike bottom. 

The glacial hydraulic is caused by a pressure of 
water brought down beneath the ice, and forced up 
through some crack. When this occurs, gravel and 
sometimes large rocks are forced to the surface and 
are deposited in ridges along the cracks. 

Those of us who had sleeping bags managed to 
secure a little sleep, but those without them were 
compelled to walk to and fro in the cold wind and 
rain to keep warm. 

The next day we crossed the divide at 5,000 feet 
altitude in a blinding snow storm. At this altitude 
and under these conditions, one's heart action is 
about as irregular as the stroke of a single-cylinder 
gas engine. In a similar blizzard, about a month 
later, a man by the name of Skelly, from San Jose, 
California, was frozen to death. I broke through a 
crust of snow that covered a crevasse, and with one 
leg swinging around in space beneath, declared I 
never again would attempt to cross that glacier. A 
strong wind pushed us along with almost irresistible 
force down the descent of the Coast Range, and at 



40 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

night we camped in timber near the foot of the 
glacier. 

The profane prospector became very weary, and 
a man invited him to ride his saddle horse down the 
descent. The cinch became loosened, and when the 
saddle was on the horse's neck the old man remarked 
that he believed he would alight. Just as he said 
this, he and saddle slipped over the horse's head. 
After rolling and sliding some distance, the pros- 
pector managed to stand up and demonstrate that 
he was physically able to swear. He spread pro- 
fanity all over that part of the glacier. It really 
dripped from his mouth when he stopped to get his 
breath. 

This Coast Range stands on end. Geologists do 
not agree that it is the same mountain chain, because 
it has not the formation that the Coast Range pos- 
sesses farther down the coast. In respect to the 
meaning of the term Coast Range and their loca- 
tion of it, they are diverted in their opinions. A 
prospector who visits these mountains should bring 
a photograph of the sun with him, as well as a div- 
ing suit; but the most useful article would be a fly- 
ing machine. 

We traveled along the banks of a glacier stream 
where the water was colored milky, caused by the 
rock erosion, and was almost too dense and cold to 
swim in. Glacier water is just about as clear as 
mud. Alaskans claim that he who drinks of it takes 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 41 

upon himself ever after the reputation of being un- 
able to tell the truth. At Valdez a few of such ini- 
tiated ones organized themselves into a mining com- 
pany which they properly named " The Goldbrick 
Consolidated.'' When selecting a witness to verify 
my statements, I ascertain first if he has imbibed 
sufficiently of the glacier beverage. 

We rested a day at a camp called Twelve Mile. 
A man was drowned there in two feet of water. The 
thick and swift glacier water rolled him over and 
over until he was drowned, and in sight of his com- 
panions. At this camp there were two head boards 
inscribed with the names of E. Vananthrope and J. 
Tournier, who died in the snow-slide of April 30, 
1898. 

We traveled along swamp hillsides, and then along 
a deep slough where we drowned a horse. We 
camped on Aug. 12 in what was once a beaver pond, 
but as the water had drained away it was now a pas- 
ture of red-top grass as high as our horses' backs. A 
clear brook ran out of this, and there we caught 
many grayling trout. This was truly a romantic 
spot, such as would be conducive to poetical writing, 
if one were lyrically inclined. I am not so endowed 
by nature, yet I appreciate short-worded and musical 
poems. Such lines, for instance, as those of Robert 
Burns's describing the natural encounter in the field, 

" Gin a body meet a body 
Comin' through the rye," 



42 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

appeal to me, and I believe those simple lines will 
be quoted and sung long after Sterling's poetical 
flight of 

" The blue-eyed vampire, sated at her feast, 
Smiles bloodly against the leprous moon," 

has died from the lingering effects of a distorted 
imagination. 

We remained there and scouted for the best trail 
route. While I was crawling through brush and 
" devil club " that clung to me like debts, I heard the 
noise of a large animal breaking away. I soon ar- 
rived at an animal bed that was still warm ; the long 
claw marks indicated that the recent occupant had 
been a grizzly. As my hands felt the warmth in the 
abandoned bed I felt lonely and homesick, so I re- 
turned very deliberately to camp, occasionally look- 
ing back for the bear. 

This camp was surrounded by a heavy forest of 
spruce that was on fire. At night the flames would 
leap to the treetops with a roar, then calm down, 
and presently another tree's foliage would repeat 
the roaring, cracking and popping. This red glar- 
ing night scene was wild and enchantingly beautiful. 

We soon arrived at Klutena Lake, and traveled 
along its shore for four days through timber and 
along gravelly beaches. This lake extends from 
spruce-covered hills on the east, to low spruce lands 
on the west, while back of the latter were high snow- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 43 

capped mountains. Even the lake water was a 
milky color, but clear streams entered into it and up 
these ventured large red salmon. When frightened, 
they would dart back into the lake, only to reappear 
directly. I stood on the bank while they ventured 
so near that I shot five from one position and soon 
had enough for supper for the whole crowd. 

James Garrett, a private from San Francisco, was 
one of those benevolent individuals who are always 
endeavoring to smooth the pathway of others. If 
a man were kicked by a horse or had lost a gun, Gar- 
rett would advise him to forget it by reflecting upon 
the valuable experience he was receiving in Alaska. 

Another day of fatiguing march brought us to St. 
Anne creek. The summer nights were now dark, and 
we groped along until midnight before we unpacked 
in camp. At one place Garrett was ahead, feeling for 
a dim trail, when I, who was following as lead horse- 
man, saw star reflections in front and realized that 
I was hesitating on the brink of a stream. Garrett 
called to me good-naturedly from the other side to 
jump as far as I could, explaining that it was rather 
deep on that side and I might get my feet wet. 
Obeying his instructions I made a respectable leap 
into water up to my waist, while Jim laughingly ex- 
plained that it was necessary, as we could not afford 
to hesitate. Comprehending the situation, I pro- 
ceeded to look for the trail while Jim " jumped " 
them in. I could hear him giving instructions about 



44 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the danger of getting their feet wet, if they failed 
to make a good jump. This was followed by a 
splash, but not so loud as the imprecations hurled at 
their instructor. Jim said later, when drinking cof- 
fee in camp, and it was safe for him to speak, that 
it was the most ungrateful crowd of poor jumpers 
he had ever assisted. They had even cussed him for 
assisting them across the creek. 

I visited a camp of some men who had been there 
since the winter rush. I asked one of them if ever 
he had known Captain West. I did this because 
West had told me in San Francisco that it was here 
he intended to leave the shore of the lake and cut 
across to the headwaters of the Chistochina River. 
The man replied: 

" Know that old humbug! Well, I reckon I do! 
If it had not been for that old scoundrel we should 
not be camped here. We stopped here to dog his 
trail, as we had heard that he was after something 
he once had found. We kept a delegation in sight 
of his every move for a month. The old liar never 
saw this country, and we certainly should have shot 
him before he got out of it." 

" Why, my dear fellow, he never asked you to fol- 
low him; besides he might think the same of you 
for dogging his trail. You say he never was in the 
country prior to this time, but I have heard that he 
piloted a crowd that got lost and wanted to go 
wrong, safely over the glacier when it " 



Trailing and Camping in r Alaska 45 

" Yes, but that was just an accident. If I had had 
my way, he never would have got out of this coun- 
try alive." 

That shows how unreasonable some men can be, 
and indeed I found numbers of them who could not 
say enough against West. They pronounced him 
a humbug and a fraud who was working for the 
transportation companies. 

The next day we traveled along the lake shore, 
where gulls swooped and snipes flitted near the 
water, which was disturbed by the lashings of sal- 
mon. We arrived at a tent-town where there were 
146 tents and 84 row-boats. The outlet was a deep, 
slow-running stream for about five miles, but from 
that point the rapids began. The occupants of that 
town were drying salmon, not prospecting. We 
found there Robert Hoffman, of Brooklyn, New 
York, with his jaw broken in five places by an en- 
raged grizzly. Subsequently he died from the in- 
juries thus received. 

About thirty miles below the rapids was another 
tent-town known as Copper Center. It was situated 
at the junction of Copper River and the Klutena, and 
is to-day a trading post. Hundreds of outfits had 
been lost in attempting to boat through the rapids. 
A man who had been pulled from the water and laid 
on a drift pile to recuperate, said afterwards, when 
relating his experience, that he had only recovered 
to realize that he was freezing. 



46 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" And, gentlemen, I also found that the Copper- 
River fever had just left me." 

A bareheaded man, with water dripping from his 
clothes and even his hair, was met about a mile 
ahead of the pack train. Upon being addressed, he 
answered: 

" I vas pully; how vas you mit yourself? " 

" You look as if you had swum at least a good 
portion of the Pacific Ocean ! " 

" I vos done worse don dot! " 

" Where is your hat? " 

" No pody knows where ish my hat. It vas mit 
my sugar, coffee und flour. Say, you sit town und I 
tell you apout it. You see I made a pig poat vat 
vas square, und de poys all say, ' Henree, vot for 
you make him vide out? ' Veil, I make him vide out 
so he no upset. Ven I vas ready to go, de poys all 
coom roundt und look. I cut him loose und ve vent 
roundt und roundt, und I could do nottings. Dot 
poat vas de whole cheese. Py und py, I said hellup, 
hellup, und de poat found a rock vat nopoddy 
knows, und I vent right on town de riffer. 

" Veil, I struck vere I vaded oudt, und de poys 
vas glad to see me, und I vas glad to see de poys, 
you pet ! But I neffer see dot poat. I took oudt all 
my money vat vas two dwenty-tollar bieces, und I 
say dot vas all dot Henree haf on both sides uf de 
Mississippi riffer, mit no hat. Von man said: 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 47 

" ' Henree, dare vas a goot poat mit two ends, 
und it is tied up mit tree hundret tollars, mit grub. 
,You gif me dot forty tollars und I go home, und you 
go on down de riffer mit a poat dot ha f two ends.' 
Veil, I gif him de money und I valks down und up 
on dot hill, und looks down on Hellkate." 

"You mean Hell Gate?" 

" Dot vas it, Hellkate. Say, you vant to look 
oudt for dot Hellkate." 

" We travel the trail along the bank, so we shall 
not be in danger." 

" Dot's all right, you look oudt for him, for he's 
a son of a gun ! I look down and see two men come 
aroundt in a poat, und dey hit a rock, und bust vide 
opens. Dey swims und swims, un py und py dey 
got oudt. I say, ' Henree, you see dot rock, und 
you no hit em.' I come down here und git in my 
poat mid two ends, und I goes aroundt de pend, und 
I strike the rock, too, und bust vide open, shust like 
de otter fellers. Veil, I go town to de pottom und 
finds notting und I stay dare. Py und py a feller 
pulls me oudt py de hair und puts me on a drift-poil, 
und he go town along de riffer und looks for some- 
dings, und dot drift-poil prakes down und I drown 
annodder toim. Say, dot vas a goot feller. He 
pulled me oudt agin ! 

" Veil, I go now, und you look oudt for dot Hell- 
kate — und say, you see dot feller dot pulled me oudt, 



48 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

■ " ■■■ "" '■ sesss ■ " 

you tell him for dot last time he pulled me oudt I 
say he vos a pully goot feller." 

We ascended about two hundred feet and trav- 
eled along the edge of a table-land. We were away 
from the humid coast climate, and our pack-train 
kicked up a cloud of dust. The dense undergrowth 
of alder brush had disappeared and we could look 
and ride out beneath the spruce trees. Wild rose 
bushes clustered here and there, and trellised over the 
little side gullies where they held out red-flowered 
greetings to us. As the weather was warm, we re- 
mained over a day at Copper Center, camped neath 
the shady trees and caught brook trout from a clear 
stream. 

One discovers peculiar traits in others, but never 
admits having any himself when traveling with com- 
panions on the trail. There was one in this crowd 
whose repartee was so slow that he generally thought 
of what he should have said the next day after the 
opportunity for giving it had passed. His answers 
generally were twenty-four hours late. He never 
laughed at a camp story until everyone else was 
through, and then he would begin to giggle, and 
gradually it would develop into a hearty laugh that 
finally culminated in such an uproarious explosion 
of mirthfulness that the rest of us always did our 
laughing over the second time. Whenever he was 
present that ridiculous performance could not be re- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 49 

sisted; we were compelled to shoot both barrels of 
our laughter at every joke that was jumped from 
cover. 

At most any hour of the night at this camp one 
could hear somebody cussing or discussing the sub- 
ject of mosquitoes. 



CHAPTER IV 

One should wear a iQ-inch collar, a number 14 boot and 
a number 5 hat to be adapted to pull a sled. He should be 
strong in back, weak in mind, with high shoulders and a 
low forehead. 

Among those who had arrived at Copper Center 
by pulling sleds and back-packing, many had neg- 
lected a previous examination for the necessary 
qualifications. When they now proved that pros- 
pecting was not their natural calling, and that 
Alaska's springtime did not bud gold leaves, their 
minds became semi-deranged. We had met a man 
near the lake who evidently was insane. On being 
asked whence he came, he emphatically replied: 

" From California. " 

As I, being from California, was ridiculed about 
the answer, I explained that the transition from that 
State to Alaska was sufficient to affect the strongest 
minds. I felt, however, that my brains were not 
sufficiently scrambled to be addicted to mental 
storms. 

At the rapids we met another man who was men- 
tally affected, and when asked from what State he 
hailed, he, too, replied: 

" From California." 

$0 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 51 

The joke was becoming serious by this time, and 
a lunatic from some other State was in demand to 
divert insinuations and relieve suspicion. 

At Copper Center there appeared at our camp a 
man who talked in a very rambling manner. He 
was as crazy evidently as a rabbit in the third month 
of the year. The members of our expedition had 
gone to a near-by tent-town, with the exception of a 
military officer and a New York sketch artist. They 
had remained apparently to see if this man would be 
asked the usual question which had recently resulted 
so embarrassingly to the interrogator. As they ap- 
peared so interested, I resolved to prove to them 
that there were deranged people who had come from 
other States besides California. With desperation 
I asked the expected question. He straightened 
himself to a dignified attitude, as he replied: 

" I am from Humboldt County, California ! " 

In reply to his counter, I lied and said I was from 
Missouri, and California was saved, so far as I was 
concerned. 

At that time Copper Center was one of those 
ephemeral towns, where the occupants are here to- 
day and gone to-morrow. In the wild rush to this 
country, there were about two prospectors to every 
hundred invaders, and two others who were willing 
to learn, while the other ninety-six were waiting for 
a " strike," as they termed it. The latter busied 
themselves generally in holding miners' meetings 



52 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

over dog-fights and other such trivial matters. Most 
of them had never lived outside of the reign of 
written law and sheriffs and town marshals and 
mayors ; so they held meetings and proceeded to elect 
those officials. It was disgusting to a free-born 
American to see those who had been raised under a 
monarchical form of government approach Captain 
Abercrombie about their trivial disputes, as if he 
were a dictator, or possibly Solomon. It was so 
annoyingly un-American that when they came to me 
inquiring for the Captain, I generally pointed out 
James Garrett as the man. He proceeded to fill 
them up with so much " bughouse " advice that I 
was obliged to caution him, fearing that he would 
advise the commission of some overt act done in the 
name of Captain Abercrombie and the United States 
of America. 

A high clay bank opposite Copper Center had 
been prospected and found to be, from a monetary 
standpoint, defunct, bankrupt and busted. As guns 
and ammunition were plentiful and useless, those 
who were preparing to leave the country spent whole 
days in doing nothing but shooting the inoffensive 
bank, and some day a lead mine may be found there. 

The wastefulness of shooting the ammunition 
away was a characteristic trait of those who had 
always lived in civilization. A frontiersman never 
would have done such a thing, but would have given 
it to those who intended to remain with the country, 



Trailing and "Camping in Alaska 53 

or have cached it in some dry place where at some 
time it might be of some use to others. This is only 
one instance. Another was the burning of a large 
outfit of provisions by some individuals who had be- 
come disgusted and were leaving. They had worked 
hard to pull it in there, and rather than leave it to be 
of some use to wandering wayfarers, they preferred 
to burn it. Alaska was better off when that sort of 
people departed. 

A short distance from the din and rattle of the 
11 shooters " and the chopping and falling of trees, 
could be heard the voice of an auctioneer saying, 
" Now, gentlemen, what am I offered for this arti- 
cle? " Those who had come into the country with 
two and three years' outfits were selling them for a 
pittance, and that, too, before they had been there 
six months. 

" I am a married man, and this is no place for 
me ! " said one of the number. " My wife thinks 
I'm a peach, a blossom and a hero! " 

Then he straightened up, tightened his belt a hole, 
stroked his unkempt beard, strutted up and down the 
trail with his hands on his hips and flirted his ragged 
coat-tails until he had lowered my estimation of his 
wife's opinion about ninety per cent. 

" She thinks I am a loo-loo bird," he continued, 
" and I feel through my whole system that I ought 
to be at home doing something ! You can't imagine 
how my wife loves me, my person and my ways! 



54 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Don't talk to me of imaginary millions! I don't 
want riches, but am going home! Behold, to-day 
you see me and to-morrow I'll be gone, flown, va- 
mosed! Ta, ta, adios! " and that ragged, bedraggled 
specimen of humanity disappeared down the trail, in 
a " dog trot." Surely his wife must have been a love 
bird of the rarest sort if, behind those whiskers, 
tangled like last year's nests, she could have recog- 
nized any sort of a bird, " loo-loo " or otherwise. 

I consented to accompany Captain Abercrombie 
and Sam Lynch on an exploring trip into the Alas- 
kan Range, one hundred miles northward. As this 
entailed unknown dangers, I handed my watch to 
Mr. Archer, an obliging gentleman, to keep until 
my return to the coast. He went back with the 
soldiers part of the way, but was drowned in the 
Tonsina River. Afterwards my watch was found 
with some other trinkets in a sack which had been 
tied to the raft he had abandoned. 

We crossed the Copper River by boat and by 
swimming our horses, on August 28, and camped 
over there. Mt. Drum looked to be no more than 
twelve miles away, and the sun's shining lingered as 
a tip of gold on its top-peak until long after it had 
been hidden to us. That always causes the surmise 
that a mountain is much higher than had been sus- 
pected. 

We broke camp feeling that we were leaving a 
neighborhood of American Bedouins, ourselves the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 55 

most nomadic of all. We spent the day in pulling 
horses from bog-holes by the tails of others, fighting 
mosquitoes and occasionally listening to the whirr of 
the spruce hen as she flitted from tree to tree. A 
spruce hen is so remarkably tame, that the Indians 
say they can, with long poles, place a looped cord 
over their heads. I do not doubt that statement. At 
night we camped at the upper edge of timber, where 
logs lay, here and there, and where luxuriant bunch- 
grass waved. Mt. Drum still appeared to be about 
twelve miles away. The next morning Sam Lynch 
decided that the mountain was farther away than it 
was when we left Copper Center. 

Here we found a flock of ptarmigan, and as my 
Colt Frontier was the only kind of a gun that was 
with us, I enjoyed the sport of killing nine of them. 

It may be well to say, right here, that disreputable 
characters have caused an erroneous opinion among 
many that a revolver or pistol is used only for kill- 
ing one's fellow-men. Many good citizens among 
the Pacific Coast mountains use nothing else to kill 
large game. I have used no other for twenty-five 
years, and during that time I have killed about all 
kinds of large game that inhabit the North Amer- 
ican continent. I will prefer a pistol to a revolver, 
when a special kind is made that will shoot a 40-40 
cartridge and with eight or ten inches between sights. 
The prospector cannot afford to be handicapped 
with a rifle when scaling the precipices, neither can 



56 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the stockman when riding the range; but all good 
citizens cast those weapons aside on their return to 
civilization. 

We traveled for days along the bases of Mt. 
Drum and Mt. Sanford, above timber and through 
bunch-grass and blueberry bushes. The mosquitoes 
had caused us fully to realize the mistake that had 
been made when we were born; but they now left 
us, and the gnats took their places until our ears at- 
tained the thickness of ordinary boot-soles. Mt. 
Sanford is not a volcano, and to me it has not the 
appearance of ever having been one, yet the early 
writers of the Yukon reported that it smoked; and 
also a few prospectors believe that they have seen 
smoke being emitted from its summit. It is the 
prettiest mountain that the writer ever looked upon, 
and not only is its summit easy of access, but it com- 
mands one of the grandest views imaginable. As 
we descended near to the timber it was discovered 
that the winter winds have blown down this moun- 
tain at times with such terrific force that small spruce 
are to be seen with all their limbs on one side, point- 
ing toward the valley. Occasionally one may be 
found growing along the ground, with the limbs 
forming a hedge. 

We succeeded in crossing the Sanford River just 
before its noonday flood at that point, and ascended 
the bank to look back on a raging torrent of water. 
This stream has its source in a glacier, and like all 




3 & 

qf 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 57 

glacial streams is subject to a daily flood during the 
warm days of summer. It was with difficulty that 
the last one of our horses crossed, so rapid was the 
rise. We camped on the bank for a noon-day lunch 
and had just unpacked when a six-foot Indian greeted 
us with a grunt. 

Afterwards we learned to recognize this bushy- 
headed fellow as Talsona Nickoli. At that time he 
could not talk a word of English, but with our 
mutual knowledge of Chinook we managed to hold 
a simple colloquy. He succeeded, by shutting his 
eyes and repeating, " Ha-lo," in making us under- 
stand that we were the first white men he had ever 
seen. He was clothed in the Indian garb of dressed 
skins, and wore nothing of white man's make, not 
even a hat. His hair was kept out of his eyes by a 
rawhide string tied around his head, and he repre- 
sented about as wild a human being as could be 
found in Uncle Sam's herd. He explained, by hold- 
ing up his fingers and pulling down one at a time 
and repeating " tobay," that he had killed five moun- 
tain sheep. He was very much afraid of our horses, 
and intently watched us pack them. As we departed, 
he, too, struck out for the mountains, whence he had 
come. 

Another day's travel, and camp was made near a 
small lake where the Captain caught, with a fly hook, 
a large mess of grayling trout. Mention is made 
of this, because it has been said that Alaska trout 



58 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

will not take a fly. Near there we found a notice, 
which read: 

" NOTICE : I take one mining claim and if it's 
good I take two. 

" Ole Oleson, Minnesota." 

About 10 P. M. on the night of Aug. 27, I was 
strolling out alone, and while looking at the stars 
was meditating why Destiny had led us up there to 
the far northern world. Polaris, with its constella- 
tions, was nearly overhead and apparently in another 
heaven from that when seen from more southern 
latitudes. At that time, our moon was bestowing 
her refulgent reflections on old Spanish towers or 
probably enhancing the beauties of Vienna, but the 
eternal watch-towers of the high, rockribbed moun- 
tains, near by, were most impressive, and I thought 
of the words of Pope : 

" He who through vast immensity can pierce, 
See worlds on worlds compose one universe, 
Observe how system into system runs, 
What other planets circle, other suns, 
What varied beings people every star, 
May tell us why Heaven made us as we are." 

Just then, of all times the most appropriate, we 
were treated to a most beautiful display of the 
Aurora Borealis. Those northern lights were not 
so far away as one might suppose, but right near 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 59 

camp, apparently only a few thousand feet from us. 
They hung in the heavens like hundreds of pale 
strings, quivering and dancing, all together, with 
harmonious movement. They changed color as 
often as they changed position. Now they were a 
deep red, now orange with a bluish tinge, waving 
and trembling, dancing and quivering in fantastic 
weirdness here, there and yonder ; spreading out like 
a thin gauze and disappearing to reappear nearer in 
front, in solid phalanx, to continue again their beau- 
tiful oscillations. 

Prospectors generally claim that those terrestrial 
and aerial magnetic affinities are visibly manifested 
more often in localities where great copper zones 
exist. While that is a very plausible conclusion, it 
is also probable that the altitude, and the sudden at- 
mospherical changes occurring at this time of 
year, assisted in producing this spectacular event. 

No artificial fireworks could compare with this 
nocturnal display. It seemed to say: 

" The great summer scene has been enacted now 
on the northern stage, and those who desire not to 
remain and witness the tragedies of winter's play, 
with its moonlit canyons, mountains of deceptive 
fire, and curtains of scintillating ice, had better hie 
them to the southland." 

A streak of light shot across the horizon and 
vanished; then came solitude: the vast mysterious 
solitude of that unexplored region. 



60 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" No hammers fell, no ponderous axes swung: 
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung, Majestic silence." 

.With the feeling that we were so infinitesimal we 
were merely foreign germs or microbes, we wended 
our way amidst the collossal surroundings where 
silences are spawned. Our course from Mt. Sanford 
wound among what appeared to be old craters, the 
floors of which were about one hundred feet wide, 
composed of large broken rocks that evidently had 
been burned black when the once tropical climate 
had been changed by the heat escaping through these 
apertures. The sides, or rims, were about fifty feet 
deep, and many of those old hoppers were filled with 
water, forming small round lakes. We traveled 
slowly over broken rocks, and when down in the 
valley walked over moss-covered hummocks among 
which trees were rooted. 

These numerous craters and the square miles of 
broken-up rock indicate to me that once this may 
have been the top of a mountain, which, after burn- 
ing out, had sunk. The sinking would certainly 
break up the surface in this manner. 

We crossed the Copper above the Slahna junc- 
tion, where it was divided into several quicksandy 
streams. We camped in the midst of good horse 
feed, among patches of willow and scattering Cot- 
tonwood trees. Cow tracks were so numerous that 
to have heard the bark of a dog, or the rattle of a 
bell and to have met a boy driving cattle would not 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 61 

have greatly surprised us. In fact, we expected to 
run up against a pair of bars or a fence, but we soon 
discovered so many bear tracks that we recovered 
from the delusive fancy, and realized that the cow 
tracks were made by moose and caribou, and that we 
were far from the haunts of the white man. 

While the others were preparing supper, I rode 
a mile to the Slahna, crossed over where it was not 
quite swimmingly deep, and there found the old 
abandoned Indian village, the high grass and the 
cottonwood trees, just as Captain West had de- 
scribed them, at the very spot he had intended was 
to be our meeting place. Away down in San Fran- 
cisco, seated beside a table, he had pointed out 
this exact locality to me, and had even described 
the clear stream of water that emptied into the 
Slahna at this place and also a high gravel bank 
near by. 

The next day, which was the last day of August, 
we crossed the Slahna, where I had forded it the 
evening before, and here met some prospectors who 
had been up the Slahna River, and now were return- 
ing to the coast. They corroborated the West story 
in regard to the Suslota creek emptying into the 
Slahna instead of into the Copper River, as indi- 
cated on the maps. Just a month after this meet- 
ing, one of those men was drowned in the Copper 
River rapids. The Slahna is a deep, sluggish stream 
from Mentasta Lake down to within three miles of 



62 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the Copper River, but at points is swift water and 
it was there I fought for my life on our return. 

We were three days ascending the Slahna valley, 
along dry, birch-covered ridges, between hopper-like 
potholes, from one to two hundred feet deep, with 
quakin'asp, birch and spruce trees growing on their 
rims. Quakin'asp is a contraction in general use 
which is derived from the words quaking aspen, 
a species of the poplar. We continued to the source 
of this river, away up in the Alaskan Range. How 
it did rain there ! We made our beds in a low place, 
and before morning it was filled with water and we 
with rheumatism. 

We returned across country for Lake Mentasta, 
and spent a day in penetrating a swamp and another 
in getting out of it. We frightened a moose so 
that it averaged 18 feet to a jump, for a few 
jumps, and then trotted out of the country. A small 
stream of the coldest water that I ever felt was the 
outlet of a beaver lake, which must have been on 
ice. We led our horses into that innocent-looking 
place and spent an hour in getting them out. It had" 
a false bottom of some floating substance, and Sam 
Lynch stepped into it up to his neck. Immediately 
he introduced a new college yell into Alaska. After 
he was out on the bank, he continued to yell some 
ornamental additions. One horse turned the pack 
beneath him, and when the ropes were cut, he floun- 
dered out at the expense of our already limited sup- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 63 

plies. Every struggle he made resulted in a globule 
of flour floating off on the surface. We repacked 
our poor shivering horses, minus the sugar, coffee 
and dried potatoes. 

We camped beside a sluggish stream. Near by 
was a round knoll, about one thousand feet high, 
and this I ascended to get a view of the surrounding 
country before dark. I swam a horse across the 
stream. I tied my ferry boat — the horse — to a tree, 
as it was too swampy for him to go to the foot of 
the hill. The sunset was so beautiful that I lingered 
on the summit, and when I descended an old well- 
beaten bear trail, the September night was as dark 
as black ink in a black bottle at midnight. We swam 
the river when it was too dark to see the opposite 
shore. The horse went shiveringly to his supper, 
and I, in like manner, stood by the fire and ate mine. 
The hooting of an owl has been heard in many 
places, but surely a hoot was never heard that 
sounded quite as lonely as did one from a near-by 
tree, away up there in that swampy forest of Alaska, 
in nearly 63 degrees north latitude. 

The next day, while traveling through the forests, 
I discovered a growth of fungus, but could not de- 
cide if it were a mushroom or a toadstool, and the 
proverbial test of eating it and if I died it was a 
toadstool did not appeal to me. It is as difficult for 
me to determine the difference between a toadstool 
and a mushroom as it would be to decide if a mat- 



64 Trailing and Camping in 'Alaska 

rimonial venture would be happiness; and I would 
rather be a live bachelor than a dead hero. 

We traveled along the edge of Mentasta Lake, 
which is but three miles long, and crossed the outlet 
near some Indian wickiups. We picked wild berries 
and saw Indian graves where, from crudely made 
crosses, little flags, as love tokens, flirted with the 
breeze. 



CHAPTER V. 

Prospectors occasionally eat beans, but their habitual diet 
is hope. 

Mentasta Pass is a low, timbered passageway- 
through the Alaskan Range. The divide is so flat 
that it surprises one to find the water running in an 
opposite direction to that pursued a short distance 
behind. We traveled several miles in this pass and 
camped near a pond of water, where we killed 
widgeon ducks, and where deep sloughs coursed 
through the timber. 

A man from California overtook us there. He 
was on his way to the Yukon and among his pack- 
horses was one that I had brought up to Alaska. 
He camped with us, and something interesting, which 
relates to his trip, will be related further on. 

We were a day here, felling trees side by side for 
bridges, and placing boughs, then moss and dirt, 
on them. Although these bridges were high above 
the water, our mustangs willingly crossed on them. 
At one place a large lake was formed by a beaver 
dam across a small creek. A pile of three-years-old 
brush had been placed near by, and more two-years- 
old brush was on top of this, then more that was 
evidently one year old, and on top of all was brush 

65 



66 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

that had been freshly cut and was yet green. As 
this brush represented annual cuttings, and was close 
to the dam, it was for no other purpose apparently 
but to stop a leakage if one should occur. 

We saw stumps of large trees which the beavers 
had cut down, but the whole of the trees had dis- 
appeared to the bottom of the lake. If I could talk 
the beaver language I would submit a standing offer 
to help them a month with an ax, if they would al- 
low me to see them move one of those large trees 
after they had cut it down. They evidently fall the 
trees true and as near where they want them as would 
the most experienced woodsman. 

We left the ponds, sloughs and thickly-grown 
forest for birch-covered ridges, and at night camped 
on the Tanana slope, where were babbling brooks, 
tall grass and a few scattering spruce trees. We 
rested on September 12 to await the melting of 
about four inches of snow that had fallen the pre- 
vious night. We did more — we killed, butchered, 
cooked and ate a large, fat porcupine. Several 
times, since that incident, this individual's appetite 
has been in a craving mood, but not for porcu- 
pine. 

From Porcupine Camp we traveled along the 
eastern slope of the range, in a southeasterly direc- 
tion, towards the point where a little puff of smoke, 
several miles away, indicated an Indian hunting 
camp. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 67 

We arrived at this camp about noon. A little 
boy and girl came out from their hidden camp and 
astonished us by talking good English. They ex- 
plained that they had attended a Mission school on 
the Yukon, and half a moon after the boy had left 
with his uncle, to accompany him on this fall hunt, 
the twelve-years-old girl had run away and followed 
them. She had traveled through the forests, along 
mountain trails and across dangerous rivers, to this 
lonely spot, living on berries and roots while mak- 
ing the trip. She had made little rafts of dead 
sticks, bound together with willow withes, and on 
one of those she had crossed the great Tanana 
River. With her inborn instinct to follow the 
proper course, she had watched for the only smoke 
on the Tokio River, for she had good reasons to 
believe that it rose from the campfire of her rela- 
tives. This child of the wild had accomplished that 
which not one full-grown white person in a hundred 
could have done. 

Those children asked if we had moose meat, and 
upon receiving a negative answer, they retired to 
the brush thicket; and presently a wrinkled, blear- 
eyed, dirty old squaw ventured forth and held out 
to us a flank of moose-meat in her filthy hands. The 
meat was loud of smell, and the old squaw was loud 
in its praise, repeating " Wal-lay," meaning good. 
While one does not always rely on the truth of an 
Indian, we took her word for that statement. We 



68 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

advised her to keep it for Winter, saying that we 
killed more birds than we could eat, and caught 
loads of salmon; besides, our horses were too weak 
to pack the meat, and — well, we were not hungry. 
We thanked her, apologized and lied. 

Traveling over soft, deep moss for a few miles 
we camped on the bank of the clear stream of little 
Tokio. Indian Albert, who was hunting for the 
camp just passed, tracked us up and ate of our 
scanty supper. He had a long clip-blade hunting 
knife which he desired to trade for my revolvers. 
He volunteered to show me where the Tyena trail 
crossed to Tetling, on the Tanana. As I expected 
to explore those wilds at some future time I accom- 
panied him for a mile through timber and over moss- 
covered ground, where a white man could not have 
tracked an elephant, and finally we arrived at the 
place where the trail was pointed out. 

When we were returning, circumstances placed 
him behind. After a few steps had been taken, in- 
stinctively I looked around quickly and discovered 
Mr. Indian in a crouching attitude, with his knife 
clutched to his breast, as if ready for a spring. The 
muzzle of my Frontier swiftly but silently invited 
him to travel in front, and he complied most will- 
ingly. 

It was not desirable that I should take the life 
of even an Indian, although the circumstances justi- 
fied it. He had not been able to resist the tempta- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 69 

tion to knock me out for the revolvers, and he 
should not have been given the chance, as I had 
recognized in him the pugnacious, Digger-like In- 
dian, a cowardly petty thief. He did not know but 
that all of us were armed, although he must have 
realized that the others would be told of the occur- 
rence, therefore after being so fairly caught he would 
be too cowardly to let his bushy head appear from 
behind a log or tree, as he would expect to get it 
cracked. I desired no trouble with Indians, and to 
have killed him might have caused his revenge on 
some innocent white man. As my companions were 
unarmed, and it would cause them only uneasiness, 
I did not tell them of the incident. 

I was told, two years after this event, that Al- 
bert was considered a very bad Indian by all the 
Tananas and Ahtnas. Suslota John said that the 
Tananas had once banished him to Forty Mile for 
six moons, and the Ahtnas had banished him to the 
coast for five moons, and he thought they would 
shoot him. He said Albert would steal from In^ 
dians as well as from white men, and that he might 
cause trouble. He added that Albert once had shot 
a white prospector by the name of Robinson, on the 
Tanana. 

We ascended a high peak for the purpose of 
searching for a pass through the mountains, and 
there we were charmed by an enchanting scene. The 
hazy blue of the east dimly screened the rolling hills 



70 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

of the Forty-Mile country and those of the Ketchem- 
stock. The high, majestic sentinels of the Copper 
River Valley, — Mount Sanford, Mount Wrangell 
and Mount Drum, — were to the southwest. From 
those watchtowers, a wintry vigil is kept forever on 
the valley below, with occasional threats of hell- 
tongued flames from the crater of Uniletta which 
exerts an influence for good over the superstitious 
children of the forest. 

The Copper River valley was beautiful, with its 
silvery river-threads glistening in the sunlight where 
they wound through forests with shady dales and 
innumerable lakes. Away up on this mountain peak 
laughingly bloomed a little flower. 

"And this same flower that blooms to-day, 
To-morrow will be dying." 

The desired pass was discovered, and while de- 
scending we came out on a point where a yearling 
bear was seen, rolling, waltzing and tumbling on 
a grassy flat below. He was just about our desired 
size, and if secured, we should be relieved of all 
fear of starving before we arrived at Copper Cen- 
ter. 

By working along the side of a rocky bluff, an at- 
tempt was made to creep up on him, but before half- 
way to the little fellow, I discovered that I had 
managed to approach to the largest black silver-tip 
grizzly imaginable. There he was, not more than 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 71 

eighty yards away, and acting as if he had discov- 
ered, by the expression of my countenance, that 
somebody had made a mistake. He appeared to 
possess an uncontrollable desire to test the texture 
of my clothing, or search me for valuables. When 
first he was seen, his head was about the size of a 
water-pail, but we had not gazed at each other a 
minute until it had increased to the size of a wash- 
tub. I concluded that if we must fight it out it was 
advisable to start the battle before he attained the 
size of an elephant or a two-story building. 

I laid the gold pan on a rock, held on to one side 
of the bluff and attempted to draw my six-shooter. 
Accidentally I knocked the pan from its place, and it 
went bumping and rattling down that rock-pile, fill- 
ing Bruin with vision of destruction. He darted 
away like a rocket, while a few bullets were shot 
into the ground behind him. He ran a quarter of 
a mile, stopped, looked back, then fearing that the 
pan might rattle some more, he dug his claws deeper 
into the ground, threw up more dirt behind, snorted 
louder and ran faster down hill, across a ridge, over 
a gulch and another ridge, until his dark form 
faded away in the distance. Then I felt brave. The 
little cub had become frightened also, and had 
left. 

The next day we crossed through the pass, where 
there was a lake that reflected beautiful mountain 
scenes from its surface, and where water lilies were 



72 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

growing. We traveled an old trail on which we 
found Indian beads. This trail led us down to the 
Slahna, which we crossed on a raft and swam our 
horses, camping on the west side about six miles be- 
low Mentasta Lake. 

Those September mornings were frosty; the 
ground was frozen and the grass was rapidly losing 
strength. We lightened our loads to enable us to 
reach the old Indian village near the mouth of the 
Slahna in one day's travel. Captain Abercrombie 
took our outfit on the raft down the river, and Lynch 
and I hurried down through the timber with the 
horses. When about a mile from the camping place, 
the raft came into view, with its pilot chilled and 
cramped from being so near the cold water. Here 
we loaded the packs on the horses again and the 
others proceeded down to the old abandoned Indian 
town, while I took the raft and struck out for a tent 
that was on the opposite side, and a quarter of a 
mile below. 

On this tent was marked in large letters : " We 
are the boys from Decatur, Illinois. " They " pot- 
latched " me two cups of flour and one of beans, and 
extended an urgent invitation to remain overnight, 
as it was dark and there was rapid water between 
that point and the Copper River, about three miles 
below. As we were out of anything to eat in our 
camp, I declined the offer. Hoping to land in an 
eddy at the mouth of Ahtel creek, near our camp, I 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 73 

tied the provisions in a small sack to my vest, bade 
Bert Hurd good-bye, and shoved the raft out into 
that boiling current. 

It was a roaring diversion, where the water was 
too deep for a pole to reach bottom, and the raft 
was pilot, captain and crew, with one useless pas- 
senger. The frolicking current did not hesitate to 
slam the craft against the over-hanging brush along 
the bank. Down on my knees with my hat knocked 
off, I braced myself against those sweepers of alder 
and willow until the raft sank so low in the water 
that the waves slapped my face ; then the thing would 
slowly turn until the current caught it. Immediately 
it would rise and shoot away, to repeat the per- 
formance on the opposite side, a quarter of a mile 
below. We, the raft and I, failed to reach the cov- 
eted eddy by about four feet, and away we went, 
bouncing with renewed animation for the Copper. 
The provisons were successfully thrown on to a high 
bank, in an open place. Then there was more 
trouble with the sweepers. Fortunately, the raft 
struck the bank in a favorable place and I left it to 
continue its crazy voyage. Slowly I worked through 
the brush for a mile, to where was found the pro- 
visions. Then I started for camp in as straight a 
direction as I could guess. On the way, a frightened 
bear snorted and went crashing through the brush, 
but I felt that frightening bears was a pleasant pas- 
time to rafting dangerous rivers at night-time. For- 



74 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

tunately I came out of the brush right at our camp- 
fire. 

We descended the west side of the Copper River 
by crossing swamps, swimming rivers and cutting 
our way through forests of spruce. We passed a 
camp where there was a lone man watching a cache 
of provisions, while his partners were off at the head 
of the river. He complained of not having seen 
a man for more than a month. He lighted his pipe 
and, seating himself on a log, became communi- 
cative. 

" Whenever I think about my coming up here," 
said he, " I realize that I put up a job on myself 
and made it work, too. This would be a good place 
to play solitaire, but I'll wager that no man, after 
he has been here a month, can play even that with- 
out cheating himself." 

We remained there long enough to cook what we 
called a square meal from that man's supplies, and 
refused his offer of some provisions, as we were not 
hungry when we left, and thought we could kill 
enough birds for our need. Near this camp I killed 
my first Alaska pheasant. They are very much like 
the prairie chicken in size, color and in their manner 
of flying. Their flesh differs from that of the spruce 
hen, in that the meat is whiter. They subsist mostly 
on seeds and berries and not on spruce needles, as 
do the spruce hens. 

The grass had lost its strength and our poor 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 75 

horses soon lost theirs. The most disagreeable task 
that I had to perform was to shoot one of our equine 
servants. We stood him on top of a five-hundred- 
foot embankment, and his body went rolling down 
into the Copper River. We felt fortunate when 
each of us had a little pine squirrel for supper. We 
ate those with a relish, even if my companions did 
insist upon referring to them as rats. Often, while 
sitting around our campfire, we would tantalize our 
appetites by talking about the good things to eat 
and of the double orders we intended to hand in at 
popular restaurants when we returned to civilization. 
I attempted to encourage my companions to eat rein- 
deer moss, boiled and seasoned, by telling them that 
it was a favorite dish used and eaten by the royalty 
of Lapland, but they insisted that they were good 
Americans, and not particularly stuck on the diet of 
kings, whether Nebuchadnezzar or his Arctic imi- 
tators. 

The McClelland party was boating upon one side 
of the Copper River when another party was doing 
the same along the opposite shore. The latter at- 
tempted to cross over, but their boat was capsized 
and all were drowned. Their names were unknown 
to the McClelland party, and thus all trace of them 
was lost. Probably the Valdez postmaster, when 
later he returned their long uncalled for letters, re- 
ceived anxious ones of inquiry from their friends at 
home. 



76 Trailing and Camping in "Alaska 

We arrived at Copper Center on September 26 
and found the population decreasing by boat-loads 
of the people going down the river. Many had 
built cabins, and now had changed their minds and 
were going out with the " push," as they called the 
home-going crowd. 

Our trip had impressed Captain Abercrombie 
with the fact that a trail into this country was an ab- 
solute necessity. Although he was enthusiastic be- 
fore, he was more so now, and it was partly through 
his renewed exertion in behalf of the region that 
his name will ever be identified with the opening up 
of the Copper River country. A few ridiculed the 
idea of a trail being constructed through those 
mountains, claiming that the project was impossible 
without crossing a glacier. 







s 



CHAPTER VI 

An Indian once said: " You go down river, he help you; 
you no go same way river go, he no help. He all same 
white man" 

We left our outfits at Copper Center, on Septem- 
ber 28, and joined Millard, Dal Stevens, Nutter 
Bros., Pete Cashman, Jim Finch, Al Hinky and 
others in the novelty of boating down the river. 
Seated in three row-boats and all pulling oars, the 
current assisted in shooting us down rapids and 
around bends at a ten-mile gait. 

The sun shone brightly, and the mornings were 
crisp, with the thermometer at 18 above. The ride 
was fascinating and the Indians waved their old 
rags at us as if wishing us " God speed," no doubt 
remarking to each other: "Surely the white men 
are as plentiful in their country as the blades of 
grass! " 

The Indians had been benefited by the generous 
" pot-latches " of the whites. They possessed all 
sorts of guns which would shoot new and unknown 
grades of ammunition, that they could not obtain. 
They wore all sorts of misfit clothing and their 
wickiups contained more or less of tea, coffee, sugar 
and tobacco, which would-be prospectors had tugged, 

77 



78 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



pulled and packed over the glacier, only to abandon 
with their first disappointment. 

Our first night's camp was at Taral, where the 
Indians exhibited cooking utensils which had been 
hammered out of copper. This was the home of 
Chief Nicoli, who led in the murder of the Russian 
explorers. It was he who, many years before, had 
led the Copper River Indians in a successful resist- 
ance to the invading Tananas. They claim that the 
Russians were very cruel to them. 

Two years after we camped there, Nicoli departed 
to the Happy Hunting-grounds for an interview 
with the Great Spirit about that and other matters 
— possibly the death of John Bremner, who, it is 
claimed by them, was killed by the Tananas. The 
natives now say that the spirit of Nicoli protects 
the mountain sheep from the leaden missiles of the 
white man. 

This Taral chief was a man of strong character. 
During his active life he prohibited any direct busi- 
ness intercourse between the natives of the interior 
and those on the coast. He held the key to the in- 
terior by way of the Copper River, and as he lived on 
the bank of the river, no Indian dared pass. The 
Indians of the interior brought furs down to this dic- 
tator, and he took them to the coast traders and re- 
turned with guns and powder. They generally 
hammered their own bullets from native copper. 

Old Bachaneta once attempted to descend the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 79 

river on a raft, but Taral Nicoli demanded that he 
should turn back. Bachaneta was a noted leader 
among the Indians at the head-waters of the river 
and of the upper Tanana, but a bullet from the rifle 
of Nicoli caused him to seek a landing and return on 
foot to his home, one hundred miles away. Billy 
Bachaneta related this incident to me, and added 
that if Nicoli had not died, he and his father and a 
few friends had intended to repeat the attempt. 

The next day we passed through Wood canyon, 
with its crooked walls and beautiful scenery, where 
the water was deep and boiling, with large whirl- 
pools in the turns. We passed the tent-town of 
Bremner, at the mouth of Bremner River, where 
many in tents had tried to pass the winter. The 
scurvy had nearly wiped out that camp. A few men 
had loaded their sick comrades on hand-sleds, and 
had descended the Copper River in the dead of 
winter, while the ravens flying overhead had an- 
nounced: "We'll pick your bones! " There is no 
sadder tale of northern hardships than that of 
Bremner. 

We overtook the soldiers who had abandoned 
their horses and boated to Bremner. They had been 
instructed to ascend Tasnuna River from this place 
and descend Lowe River to Valdez Bay. Lowe 
River was formerly known as Valdez River, but 
Lieutenant Lowe fell into it once and thereafter 
changed its name from its mouth to its source. Ac- 



80 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

cording to this precedent, most of the rivers in that 
part of Alaska should be named Powell. But there 
would be other claimants. 

On the last of September we arrived at the head 
of the rapids, which were about three miles long. 
The river here plunges down through a narrow 
space between a perpendicular wall on one side and 
the moraine of Miles glacier on the other. Above 
this glacier, and on the west side of the river, can 
be seen the remarkable sight of trees growing on the 
ice. The formation appears to be rolling, gravelly 
hills, but the deep-cut ravines disclose them to be 
old glacier moraines, with a few feet of vegetable 
matter and debris on clear blue ice. 

Mr. Corliss was there at the rapids with his boat, 
" Long Tom," and was going to attempt boating 
through on the morrow. A man had been drowned 
there the day before while attempting that same feat. 
I seated myself on a large boulder, about forty feet 
above the swirling water, to watch the " Long Tom " 
go through. Six men, each with an oar, pulled 
straight for the rapids, while Corliss, with set jaws 
and a determined look on his face, stood up in the 
stern as the pilot. The boat appeared to hesitate 
before taking the plunge, then shot down like an 
arrow for about one hundred and fifty yards, where 
it whirled in an eddy, then plunged down into the 
second rapids. 

The occupants could be seen, now high on the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 81 

center crest where their oars could not touch water 
but were working in air, then deeply dipping in the 
troughs of the current ; but finally they landed below 
the second rapids. A few of us carried our sleep- 
ing-bags around along the trail that traversed the 
bluff. Others followed Corliss in one of our boats, 
and they also succeeded in landing it below without 
mishap, but the danger was so appalling that they 
concluded to line the second boat, by all hands hold- 
ing to a long rope and walking along the moraine 
side of the river. 

This attempt was a failure and the boat broke 
away with sixty feet of rope dragging behind. This 
held the boat straight and safely piloted it through 
the first two rapids ; but a loop in the rope caught on 
the bottom at the head of the third rapid, known as 
the cataract, and there it bobbed up and down, all 
night, with our provisions, and blankets for six men. 

It bobbed and bobbed there, regardless of our 
appetites and comfort, while we built a fire in some 
driftwood and despondently discussed the situation. 
There appeared but one thing to do and that was 
to cut the rope with a bullet. We discovered, by 
throwing rocks, that the boat was much farther 
away than at first we had supposed, the distance 
being about sixty yards. As the boat was moving, 
and as it was necessary to strike the rope when taut, 
it was a difficult shot to make. There were but 
nine cartridges left for my revolver, and these were 



82 Trailing and Camping in 'Alaska 

reserved until all ammunition in camp had been 
used up by another shooter. Fortunately my eighth 
shot severed a strand, and my ninth completely cut 
the rope, and immediately that boat shot away from 
there, like a quarter horse on a race track. It rolled 
out the blankets, when going through the cataract, 
and then floated on down to deep water. 

The watchers who were down there with the other 
boat which had made the run successfully, paddled 
out among the icebergs and recovered it. We built 
a fire among some driftwood, ate flapjacks and sand, 
while the wind blew a gale. Acres of ice fell from 
the two-hundred-foot face of Miles glacier, across 
the river, a mile away ; these would disappear be- 
neath the surface of that deep water, and then bob 
up, to float off as icebergs. When they struck the 
water they sent waves away out on our beach. 

We arrived at Alganik on October 3. This 
was a trading post at the edge of high tide, with a 
few goods, a barrel of whiskey, a squaw-man or 
two, and several half-breed children. We followed 
the guidance of an Indian from that point, and 
striking the tide just right, we crossed the twenty- 
five miles of mud flats, and ascended the outlet of 
Eyak Lake, on an ingoing current. On the banks of 
this outlet were hundreds of acres of redtop grass, 
and occasionally large spruce trees. The tide car- 
ried us on, and increased our speed. We passed a 
sloop in which were a squaw-man, his wife and fam- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 83 

rn»-^r-T-g ^ MaM ^ HM ^ M „ M w m— mm— a»ma«™=a 

ily. The half-breed children hung over the edge 
of their floating home and trailed their little fingers 
in the water as they drifted along this winding 
slough. These squaw-men generally live in sloops, 
and drift from one Indian town to another, shoot- 
ing duck, catching fish and degenerating. Yet there 
are a few of these men who have homes and are 
making good livings for their families and educating 
their children. 

We crossed the three miles of Eyak Lake, landed 
at the Indian town of Eyak, and then portaged six 
hundred yards across a peninsula to the Alaska 
Commercial Company's fish cannery. This now is 
the terminal of the Copper River and Northwestern 
Railroad. Thence we rowed three miles to Orca, 
where seventy-five Copper River adventurers were 
waiting for a steamer to take them home. Among 
them was a Mr. Leonard, an old Rocky mountain- 
eer, who was one of the only two men that had ever 
boated through all of the Copper River rapids, in- 
cluding the cataract, generally avoided by descend- 
ing a slough. Those men had no knowledge of the 
slough, and disclaimed any credit for performing 
the remarkable feat. When Leonard was asked how 
he had succeeded, he replied: 

' With a pair of oars, a flat-bottomed boat, ig- 
norance and the necessary attributes that should ac- 
company a pair of idiots, sir! " 

The next day we boarded a steamer for Valdez, 



84 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

having traveled about six hundred miles in fifty-eight 
days, having cut our way through brush and timber 
the greater portion of the distance. The crossing of 
the glacier streams were the most bitter reminiscences 
of the trip. 

The man from California, who had camped with 
us in Mentasta Pass, proceeded to the Yukon and 
there had met another fellow who was so eager to 
get out of the country that he had offered the Cal- 
ifornian a large sum of money if he would take him 
to Orca, and accepting it, he had returned almost 
immediately. 

This Yukoner was an old man and had in his 
possession about three hundred pounds of gold nug- 
gets. The reason of his anxiety to get out by that 
route, then almost unknown, may be explained in 
this wise: The Canadian government had retarded 
the development of its resources by levying a tax on 
all gold produced. At that time, the Klondikers 
were taxed one-fifth, and probably because of that, 
many had slipped through the line into Alaska and 
had claimed ever afterwards that they had procured 
their gold in Uncle Sam's territory. 

There was another class who worked in the mines 
for wages and who stole nuggets while in the shafts, 
and buried their treasure until they desired to leave. 
Then it became imperatively necessary that they 
should slip across the line to avoid making a state- 
ment of how and where they had procured the gold. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 85 

Those never had dust, only nuggets, such as they 
could pick up with their fingers. 

The man here mentioned succeeded in arriving 
at Orca, and from there traveled second class by 
steamer to Juneau. Any fellow who could be guilty 
of stealing out of the country with gold would be 
likely to continue covering up his tracks. To pro- 
duce evidence, in case of future arrest, probably he 
would deceive some reputable person to assist him 
unwittingly by repeating his statements. I do not 
say that this particular individual did that, but I do 
know that there was an old man who visited a promi- 
nent citizen of Juneau and disclosed to him that he 
possessed that amount of gold nuggets, and repre- 
sented that he had procured the gold in the Coast 
Range, not far from Orca. He even detailed how 
he was out of provisions and how he had killed a 
moose right near where he had made the discovery, 
although as a matter of fact there are no moose in 
the Coast Range. He promised to show the Juneau 
man where he had found the gold if he would ac- 
company him there the next year. 

From Juneau that old man had returned to the 
States, where he had died the following year, and 
no doubt there are people who are yet looking for 
the mysterious and fabulously rich auriferous de- 
posit which they believe this old fellow found in the 
Coast Range. They will continue to do that, just 
as others have hunted for the John Swift mine of 



86 Trailing and Vamping in Alaska 

Kentucky since 1761 ; and are looking for the " Old 
Squaw Mine " of the Yuma desert; and the " Peg- 
Leg " mines of both California and Oregon; or 
the Captain West " Mud Glaciers " of the Tanana, 
and dozens of other mirages that remain as undis- 
turbed delusions where the rainbows point. 

There was no time to rest at Valdez, for imme- 
diately I was instructed to take my transit and carry 
triangulations up the Lowe River and approximately 
to determine the altitude of the pass that had been 
discovered and reported by Corporal Hyden. Two 
companions and myself accomplished the feat of 
getting over into Dutch Flat in four days with two 
mules. It could be done in one day now, as a trail 
has been blasted through the Keystone Canyon. 

We met Frank Schrader, of the Geological Sur- 
vey, in Dutch Flat, and also the soldiers previously 
mentioned as having come through that way. A man 
by the name of Baird had perished there a few 
months before. One of my assistants returned with 
the soldiers, taking the mules with him, while with 
one companion I remained to complete the survey 
in a snow storm. 

My companion, who was a practical joker, and I 
camped on our way out without bedding. We built 
a large fire, near which I sat with my back against 
a tree. There was a forty-pound rock lying in front 
of me, and my companion would sit on that until I 
would nearly freeze. He enjoyed being between me 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 87 

and the fire. When he was sufficiently warmed in 
front, he would stretch himself out, face downward, 
and snore for half an hour. When it was neces- 
sary to warm his front, he would wake up and re- 
peat the performance of sitting in front of me for 
awhile. He always did enjoy anything of that kind, 
so while he was snoring I figured out that I was 
deeply in debt to him for the many practical jokes 
he had played on me during the past Summer, and 
therefore concluded to square several of the accounts 
at one time. 

I rolled that rock into the fire and left it there 
until it was too hot to spit on, then with the aid of 
a stick of wood, I returned it to its usual place. My 
companion snored for only a few minutes longer, 
then arose and very deliberately sat down on that 
rock. Immediately he displayed unusual activity 
by yelling a war-whoop, jumping over the log fire, 
and crashing down the hill on the other side with 
a noise that resembled a stampede of wild cattle. 
He returned rubbing his blister, and remarked that 
there must be a root on fire beneath that rock, as 
it got hot quicker than any rock he had ever heard 
of. He said he preferred to stand any way. 

Pete Cashman, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Ham left 
on October 18, to bring in the horses that had been 
left near Taral. It was a useless undertaking, as 
the feed had been frozen and they were too weak to 
travel. Their account of the trip appeared in the 



88 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

government report of the Copper River Exploring 
Expedition, and reads like a fairy-tale. 

They encountered a bear, and after running until 
exhausted they discovered that the bear was running 
in the opposite direction. Then they laughed and 
wondered why that crazy bear had not been holed 
up for the winter. Often they were lost and with- 
out food, and all one night they traveled in a cir- 
cle. In one day they counted nine bears and saw 
many wolverine tracks. Once they were caught in 
an ice jam on the river, but the Indians helped 
them to reach shore and housed them over night. 

They cut some meat from a dead horse for food 
and returned. Having frosted their hands and 
faces, they were taken in and fed on the best the 
Indians possessed. Stewart had torn the fork of 
his trousers, and after due consultation, several 
squaws decided to mend them, but Stewart was bash- 
ful and preferred to sit cross-legged. According to 
the government report two squaws grabbed and held 
his hands while a third pulled off his trousers, 
Stewart yelled to Cashman for assistance, but Pete 
replied with laughter and encouraged the squaws 
in their undertaking. Stewart said afterwards that 
he entertained a high opinion of Indian housewifery. 

From Copper Center Pete undertook the hazard- 
ous venture of returning to Valdez. He crossed 
the lake and camped in a tent where there was a man 
who was badly frozen from having attempted to get 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 89 

over the glacier a few days before. His name was 
Evyan. Pete dressed his frozen feet and attended 
to his wants the best that he could, and then lay 
down beside his host for a night's rest. When 
awakening the next morning he discovered that his 
bed companion was cold in death. Fortunately, 
when Pete arrived in Valdez he was none the worse, 
apparently, for his trip. 

On October 26 the steamer Excelsior took away 
one-third of the population. Most of those who re- 
mained did so with the intention of going out on 
the November boat, but it failed to come. Straggling 
parties continued to come over the glacier and to 
tell of their hairbreadth escapes. One man became 
so exhausted that he had lain down to sleep on the 
ice. His companions reasoned with him that it 
would be better to shoot himself, and even offered 
to lend him a pistol for the purpose, but it was re- 
fused. Another, reasoning that the man should be 
shot, walked up to him and generously offered to do 
the shooting. The tired and sleepy man then de- 
liberately arose and was the first of the party to ar- 
rive in Valdez. 

Our little colony consisted of about one hundred 
men and nine women, all endeavoring to keep warm 
in tents and a few log cabins, in the midst of a 
northern winter. Among them were artists, en- 
gravers, and, fortunately, two physicians. The en- 
graver devoted hours to cutting names in gunstocks, 



90 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the artists penciled distorted resemblances of others, 
and a few played with cards. Others passed the 
time reading everything except the sky. 

It was interesting to hear the long-haired six- 
footers tell of their experiences. One man said: 

" The reason I came to Alaska was that I had 
nothing to lose; and, I'll be hanged, gentlemen, if 
I didn't lose that! " 

Assistant Quartermaster Brown was left in charge 
of the commissary and, as he was the only official 
there, he laughingly referred to himself as " the 
King." 

Duncan McCabe, a Californian, and myself sat 
by a large cookstove, with our feet in the oven, and 
talked of southern climes while the snow drifted 
and whipped against the house. 

" The oranges," said I, " are most delicious down 
in old California about this time of year." 

" Yes, and the geraniums are in bloom. They 
bloom all Winter down there," he answered. 

Then a glacial blast acted as if it would unroof 
the house, and we nudged up closer to the stove and 
held our hands over it. 

" I have seen volunteer barley and wild oats 
headed out there, at this time of year," I re- 
marked. 

" So have I. The almond trees are in bloom 
now, too," he added. 

On this topic we talked for a long time, — of 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 91 

watermelon vines, new potatoes that would insist on 
volunteering in the orchards where they were 
not wanted, — and also of strawberry short-cake. 
The wind continued to whistle, and the weather ap- 
peared to me to be getting rapidly colder, but we 
hugged closer to the stove and continued the in- 
teresting conversation. 

Our pleasant dreams were suddenly stopped by 
Charley Brown coming into the room. His head 
was all muffled up, and after shaking the snow 
from himself and stamping his feet, he deliberately 
walked up and placed his bare hand on our stove. 
Springing back he exclaimed: 

" Jehosephat ! If you Californians aren't keep- 
ing yourselves warm by talking about your southern 
climate, with your feet in the oven of a stove that has 
had no fire in it for three hours! " He then walked 
out. 

I glanced down at the stove that I knew was red 
hot when we began to talk, and saw white frost on 
it; then I examined a bucket of water that had been 
placed near the pipe to keep it warm and found it 
to be a bucket of ice. I brought in some wood from 
the adjoining wood-house, while Duncan cut shav- 
ings preparatory to starting a fire. Presently Dun- 
can stopped and said: 

" Blamed if he wasn't right! Just talking about 
that country warmed us up. If I only had a bottle 
of that climate here now, I could pull the cork and 



92 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

make any of them believe that their house was on 
fire!" 

We had no law except a leaning tree and a rope, 
and needed no other. It was the most orderly com- 
munity imaginable. Every individual felt that he 
was a juror in all cases and accountable to the com- 
munity for his own conduct. This little colony 
represented a very small percentage of the four 
thousand people who had invaded that part of the 
then unknown. The task of overcoming the appar- 
ently insurmountable difficulties of exploring that 
great wonderland was left to them, with their in- 
domitable will, energy and perseverance. Two com- 
panions and myself were fortunate in the possession 
of a barrel of salmon bellies, and consequently we 
ate salmon bellies twenty-one times per week. 

These pioneers would come out on the clear, crisp 
cold nights, and cluster in groups to witness the 
beautiful scenes that were enacted on the northern 
stage, where the sky-curtain trembled in dim aurora. 
We were embayed in calm seclusion in another 
world, and had received no word or line from loved 
ones at home during the preceding fourth of the 
year, as no boat had rippled the bay for three long 
months. 

They stood hand to hand, heart to heart and soul 
to soul; hand to hand to explore these unknown 
wilds; heart to heart to assist their sick and needy 
companions; and soul to soul to commit to graves 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 93 

dug in icy soil the frozen bodies of their number 
who had perished in glacier blizzards. 

Three to five thousand feet above and surround- 
ing us were rock-ribbed and impenetrable walls of 
pinnacled mountains, weird, cold and desolate, 
statuesque and awe-inspiring. There were cavern- 
ous recesses and precipitous walls defiled with 
gorges of gleaming ice. The high winds sheeted 
the snow from the pinnacled crests, and the moon, 
hidden from our view by the mountain, sent its scin- 
tillating rays to be reflected down through those 
particles as if making the whole mountain to appear 
as though it were burning vividly with a golden 
flame. The spectacular extravaganza of the north- 
land! 

A party of us stood admiring the display on the 
night of November 18, and a lady asked her hus- 
band what were the weather indications of those 
flames. 

" Well, my dear, those flames have the appearance 
of smoke in daytime. You have seen these moun- 
tains smoke, haven't you?" he answered. 

" Yes, this very afternoon." 

" That means, because those crests are on the same 
altitude as the glacier, that a high wind is blowing 
on the summit; and the flames and smoke plainly 
say, ' Keep off the glacier ! ' These northeasters 
last several days and to-morrow the ' woollies ' will 
hurl great volumes of snow along here and out into 



94 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the bay. These naked trees will then whistle the 
same tune that they always play on such occasions. 
God help the boys who attempt to cross the glacier 
to-morrow.' ' 

With her head resting on his shoulder, her heart- 
felt reply was : 

" I do hope none will make the attempt." 

The next day the blizzard came as predicted. We 
were content to remain indoors, and scrape the frost 
off the windows and watch the snow leave the moun- 
tain-tops and, driven back into moisture, go float- 
ing off over the Pacific in the form of clouds. This 
nebulous mass of vapor was not merely a ghostly 
apparition, or evil omen, but the genuine evil itself, 
on a mission of death to every living thing it might 
encounter. 

That night the only social hall was crowded with 
men in great overcoats. The surrounded card tables 
were echoing the clinking of coin, and the fireman 
shoved large chunks of spruce into the stove, while 
the wind shook the building with a warning of its 
terrible power. The gambling suddenly ceased, and 
with greetings of astonishment, the crowd parted as 
six men walked into their midst with ice clinging to 
their beards and hair. 

They had crossed the glacier! 

Six out of nine had succeeded in the attempt. The 
last man to drop out of line was Mike Smith, of 
Chicago. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 95 

" Boys, I can go no further," he had said, and 
had tumbled over in the snow, while a gust of wind 
had carried the others far down the glacier. 

Of those who had succeeded, Spotts, William 
Grogg and Robert Furgusen were unhurt; but Syl- 
vester Grogg, of St. Joe, Missouri, and Mr. Polo- 
witch and Mr. Cohn of New York, were in a sor- 
rowful condition. They were hurried into a cold 
room, and bathed in ice water until their footwear 
and mits could be removed. 

One night, seven days after this occurrence, Cohn 
lay suffering with a fever caused by the exposure. 
He was resting on a cot in a cabin loft, and when 
the " woollies " snow- whipped the roof he would 
start up in wild excitement. Once he arose in bed, 
and with a look of frenzy gazed towards the stair- 
way, while the lone attendant vainly tried to pacify 
him. Presently his look changed to a calm expres- 
sion of happiness and he exclaimed: 

" Good Lord ! And you have come to me ! How 
good of you ! " Then he dropped back on his pil- 
low and mumbled: 

"Don't cry, dear; it was for your sake that I 
came and crossed the glacier, gla-gla-cier." For 
a few minutes he was in a deep sleep, then he awoke 
and with a perfectly sane expression said: 

"My wife came to see me. She stood right 
there and looked just as natural as ever. Wasn't 
that kind of her? Poor girl! She has gone for 



96 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

something to eat and will be back soon. Say, please 
tell her not to cry." 

He shut his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek 
and the lone strange attendant stood by the bed a 
few minutes, felt his pulse, then turned away and 
wiped the tears from his eyes, while the north wind 
moaned a lonely requiem to the dead. On Novem- 
ber 28 a procession followed a sled on which were 
the remains of Henry Cohn, and so there were only 
five left of the nine who had attempted to cross 
the glacier in November, 1898. 



CHAPTER VII 

The writer has tried and feels justified in recommending 
the old infallible preventive of seasickness: It is, STAY ON 
LAND. 

We suffered the ennui of solitude and seemed to 
drift as did the snow from December into January. 
We watched the year of 1898 go out and 1899 
come in, as a mile-post along our adventurous life- 
trail. The sun winked and blinked at us for a few 
minutes, and then would hide behind rugged moun- 
tains for nearly 24 hours. The luminary began to 
be a little bolder in January, and laughingly played 
" peek-a-boo " with us as it flitted from peak to peak. 
We often spent our Sundays at the little Christian 
Endeavor meetings conducted by Mr. and Mrs. 
Goss, Melvin Dempsey and others. They were the 
good-hearted kind that the gambler probably would 
describe as " standing pat " on heaven and " shift- 
ing " on hell. 

Mrs. Beatty occasionally went into a trance and 
claimed thereby to be able to see things that others 
could not. She said that on the afternoon of Janu- 
ary 18 she could see a boat steaming up the bay. 
As this was several days before that date, it was 
received with interest by many, as the truth of it 
could be verified on that day. It was unreasonable 

97 



98 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



to expect a steamer there in the middle of winter, as 
we knew of none so scheduled. 

When the 18th day of January arrived, very little 
attention was paid to the prophecy, unless it were 
to deride it. I, being of such an unbelieving nature 
about such things, was more surprised than others, 
when precisely as Mrs. Beatty had described, the 
steamer whistle was heard, and there we saw the 
little steamer Wolcott slowly approaching, on 
time to a minute. The truthfulness of that predic- 
tion was an agreeable surprise to all, and the steamer 
had no more than cast anchor when dozens of small 
boats surrounded it. We were all eager to receive 
news from home, and it was six months old when 
we got it. 

The little steamer was quickly filled with passen- 
gers who felt they had served their term at Valdez, 
and now desired to finish the winter somewhere else. 
I was making a preliminary survey of the town site 
of Valdez when the boat arrived, and I, too, boarded 
for Sitka to record the boundary. Willingly we gave 
up the limited first-class accommodations to our in- 
valids, and on the night of the 20th, left Prince 
William Sound for the moving mountains and can- 
yons, peaks and gulches of a storm-maddened ocean. 

Notwithstanding that the way below-deck was 
protected by a hood partly boarded up, barrels 
of water poured down the stairway. Three of us 
stood on the steps with our heads out from that 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 99 



aperture. One exclaimed "Europe!" another 
41 New York! " and I said " Amen! " I was pre- 
pared to change my position for one on deck, and by 
the assistance of the rolling sea, succeeded. I shot 
through that aperture lengthwise and rolled over 
on deck in about two feet of salt water. As the 
boat careened, I rolled back and tried to knock down 
the mainmast. Holding to it, I struggled to my feet 
while a barrel of salt water struck the mast above 
and deluged the back of my neck, while a similar 
consignment shot up the legs of my trousers from 
the deck. There was a commotion where the waters 
met, but it was the internal commotion which was 
the most troublesome. It took but a minute to be- 
come thoroughly drenched, but several minutes to 
get back into that hole. When everything was fa- 
vorable, I shot down, head first — in a business sort 
of a way, but once down below, I did not stand 
around waiting for someone to tell me what to do, 
but re-entered the gagging contest with renewed en- 
ergy. 

The wind was a howling success. The boat would 
enter a wave with a slap and a bang; then it would 
groan, and so would everybody on board. The pro- 
peller was as often whirling and rattling above the 
water as beneath it, while the waves occasionally 
dashed over the entire vessel. 

The anger of the storm had abated by the next 
morning, but that of the sea had not. We had 



100 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

drifted far to the westward, with no land in sight, 
and where the balmy breeze indicated that it was 
just from the " Flowery Kingdom." A man down 
below had the hiccoughs as well-regulated as a 
clock, and too well-regulated for my nerves, so I 
climbed to the deck and held on to a rope beside an- 
other man who had them regulated down to half 
seconds. For two days we bucked the heavy seas 
without eating, although Captain Crockett, said to 
be a grandson of Davy Crockett, claimed that he 
had the best of food on board. That little steamer 
was afterwards totally wrecked on the coast of 
Kayak Island. 

When we landed at Juneau, the streets and houses 
appeared to rock to and fro, up and down, for the 
first twenty-four hours, while we, when walking, 
braced ourselves cautiously for ground swells. 
Others, who lived there, said they could notice no 
ground swells, but we did. We gave lifelike im- 
personations of a drunken, dissipated lot of 
rounders, recovering from the spree of their lives, 
and indeed we were. We felt just that way. 

Juneau had been the dumping ground for hun- 
dreds of stranded Copper Riverites, who had been 
shipped out at the expense of the government and 
steamship companies. They had given the Copper 
River country a bad name, and I astonished an in- 
terrogator by answering that I intended to return in 
the spring. I met him on the beach at the time, and 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 101 

when the astonished fellow recovered his speech, 
he called to his companion, who was some distance 
away, and said: 

" O John! Here is a fellow from Copper River! " 
John replied that he had seen enough of those 
fellows, whereupon the first speaker answered: 
" Yes, but this durn fool is going back! " 
The first two mules brought to Alaska were 
landed at Sitka, and later, one was brought to 
Juneau, where, after looking around at the strange 
mountainland of rock and moss, he deliberately 
walked down to the beach and committed suicide 
by drowning. Human beings have been known to 
commit suicide at Juneau, but the place does not 
appear to suggest any particular inducements for it. 
Juneau is a hillside town, with electric lights, busi- 
ness houses and hotels. Dogteams did a thriving 
dray business, I remember, and little boys, with 
stomachs on hand-sleds, scooted down hill with a 
whoop of warning to pedestrians. There were dance 
halls, and gaming tables, with fools on one side and 
thieves on the other; and open-mouthed slot ma- 
chines gaping for nickels and half dollars. There 
was a good society, a church, a school and a library. 
The following bit of Juneau's history was obtained 
from Reuben Albertstone, a reliable pioneer of 
Alaska : 

" In 1867 an Indian brought into Fort Wrangell 
a small quantity of rock which was rich with wire 



102 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

gold. Merchants were induced to outfit a party of 
prospectors to accompany him to the place of discov- 
ery. They pulled their canoes up the coast as far as 
Sum Dum, where they found gold and refused far- 
ther to follow the Indian. 

" The disgusted Indian returned to Wrangell and 
subsequently died in the Victoria Hospital, at Van- 
couver, but when dying he gave the secret to another 
Indian, who returned to Wrangell. It was about 
thirteen years after the first Indian had attempted to 
show where he had found the auriferous rock, that 
Indian No. 2 started from Sitka with Richard Har- 
ris and Joe Juneau. They landed at what was then 
known as Big Auk village, now Juneau. It was with 
considerable persuasion that the Indian succeeded in 
getting his companions to ascend the steep mountain 
into Silver Bow Basin. After satisfying themselves of 
the value of the discovery, they proceeded to hold a 
miners' meeting and to organize a district which they 
called 'Harris.' 

" Imagine Harris, sitting on a rock, as chairman ; 
Juneau as secretary and the Indian as an interested 
audience. In this manner motions were made, sec- 
onded and carried, and the Indian was satisfied to 
receive one hundred dollars for his trouble and in- 
telligent assistance. 

" When the little town was started, it went by the 
name of Harrisburg, until Joe Juneau concluded that 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 103 

his odd name should be handed down to posterity. 
He reasoned that it was enough for Dick Harris 
to have his name spread all over a mining district, 
without having it stuck on all letters received therein. 
Brooding over these facts, as he stumbled down the 
trail to Harrisburg, he determined to have a ' blow- 
out ' and he did. He not only invited everybody 
there to drink to his health, but announced himself 
as the father of the place. The crowd rent the air 
with cheers and every man threw up his hat in his 
exultation at the prospect of another drink at the 
expense of the self-asserted ' dad. 1 Again and again 
they obeyed orders by stepping into line with mili- 
tary precision in front of the saloon bar, and ' looked 
at ' Joe. 

" Dancut Peterson mounted an inverted whiskey 
barrel, and calling the meeting to order, he made the 
desired motion to change the name of Harrisburg to 
that of Juneau. It is needless to say that the motion 
was carried, and that the stream of good feeling con- 
tinued to flow down their throats. The crowd in- 
tended the christening as a joke, but the name stuck. 
Joe prided himself ever after as being the paternal 
ancestor of the town, while Dick Harris proclaimed 
Joe as his personal enemy." 

Then my informer watched the curling smoke of 
his cigar, while he recovered his thoughts from the 
days when the natives claimed that it was dangerous 



104 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

to land on Douglass Island because of the many 
bears. 

Most of the men who stopped at our hotel in 
Juneau, desired neither work nor riches, but simply 
argument and plenty of it. Their animated voices 
were incessantly heard in wordy battle. When one 
subject was exhausted by ridicule, abuse and false 
representation, some fertile brain would introduce 
another. 

Our social hall was a large room in which was a 
bar, but it was seldom that any one took a drink. An 
intoxicated fellow entered and called for a drink, but 
the bartender refused him, and that was a signal for 
argument. One contentious old quartzite asked the 
question : . 

" Does whiskey do more harm than good? " 

He did that to get some one's opinion so that he 
could oppose him. The bartender said it did, and 
that he never drank a drop, while others contended 
that he might as well find fault with food because a 
few gluttons ate too much. 

The subject was gradually turned upon the inspira- 
tion of the Bible, and the bartender defended it by 
producing one from behind the bar and reading from 
it. Imagine that man, behind a whiskey bar, with 
the Bible spread thereon, and a dozen prospectors 
standing in front, not to drink, but to hear that 
" barkeep " expound the Scriptures! Verily Alaska 
is a place of unusual incidents! 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 105 

The Taku winds, so called because of the draught 
down Taku Inlet, occasionally blow down off those 
mountains with considerable force. An Indian was 
asked if it often blew so hard there, and he replied: 

" Yep, he blow, he blow — and — by and by he blow 
some more! " 

We could plainly hear the blasting at the famous 
Treadwell mines, three miles away, and concluded to 
inspect them. A few minutes' ride on a little steamer 
and we were landed there. We found a pretty hill- 
side town composed of workmen and their families. 
Regular pay for steady employment is conducive to 
good citizenship, and impressive contentment, just as 
merry children and cosy homes are indicative of 
domestic happiness. This mine is not of a high- 
grade ore, but it gives a guarantee to both capital 
and labor. At this writing, 1909, a tunnel extends 
under the mountain twenty-five hundred feet, and 
Expert Roberts of San Francisco says : " They are 
uncovering enough workable ore to operate a thou- 
sand stamps for a thousand years." 

According to the company's reports for the year of 
1899, the total cost of milling and mining was $1.47 
per ton, which left a clear profit of 96 cents. When 
you enter one of those buildings you know that you 
are in the worst racket of your life. Attempt to say 
something, and you realize that while your lips and 
jaws are working, you can't hear your own voice. 
This may be a laughable sensation, but you can't 



106 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

hear your own laugh, and for once you are deaf and 
dumb. 

We looked at the broken rock in water, as it was 
fed beneath the stamps, and watched it come out as 
a milky-colored fluid. It is rocked over concentra- 
ting tables; and afterwards the water and light ma- 
terial is conducted to the sea, while the mineral is 
poured into troughs and sacked for other refining 
processes. We looked at the " glory hole," a huge 
hopper, several acres in extent at the top. Here 
rock was being blasted off from its sides to tumble 
to the bottom. It was wheeled to elevators to be 
carried up to the mills, there to be reduced to the 
desired size for the stamps and then fed down 
through them. 

And this is the Treadwell — the largest gold quartz 
mine in the world! The greatest collection of 
stamps on the globe! Where four million dollars 
of gold has been taken out, and mostly for the en- 
richment of Europeans. Where there are thirty miles 
of tunnels, and where one can walk out under the 
harbor with the steamships floating twelve hundred 
feet above! What a shame that American capital- 
ists will cut each others' throats by gambling in the 
non-productive stock market, instead of developing 
our resources which now lie dormant, awaiting the 
magic wand of financial assistance ! 

Alaska possesses hundreds of natural opportunities 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 107 

for millions of wealth to be invested profitably in 
gold, copper and tin mines. The poor but honest 
miner can receive no assistance from his own coun- 
trymen, while it has been said that the miner is a 
liar with a hole in the ground, but I say, generally 
speaking, the promoter hasn't even a hole. 



CHAPTER VIII 

Skagway to many voyagers has been the gateway to the 
Yukon, to hardships and to death; to others to fortune and to 
happiness; while to a few it has been the gateway to the 
penitentiary, 

I arrived at Skagway after a Hay's ride on a 
steamer. Failing to secure a private room, I en- 
gaged a bed among about forty snoring room-mates. 
Sleep was impossible, because there was no system 
about their snoring. Although the performance was 
a medley, it was by no means a tuneful discord. 
The snorers were about evenly matched, nose and 
nose, when a new entry undertook to win the race 
by a sudden burst of energy, a regular sprint of a 
snore that put him far in the lead. He excited my 
curiosity and admiration. As he was from my end 
of the room I proceeded mentally to bet my last dol- 
lar on him, when he suddenly " flew the track," 
jumped the fence and collapsed. Evidently his pop- 
valve was out of order. 

I paid four dollars for a room to be used the next 
night, with the hope of securing some rest; but that 
was another disappointment. A couple committed 
matrimony in the same house, and certainly I shall 
remember the incident, whether they do or not. 
About one hundred barbarians organized a discord- 

108 




to 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 109 

ant serenade with tinpans and cowbells, cornets and 
horns, and when that hideous turmoil of human 
hyenas ceased, the howling, barking canines con- 
tinued it for the rest of the night. There were dogs 
there for every individual, valued at prices ranging 
from five to five hundred dollars each. 

All nationalities were represented at Skagway. 
There was the gasconading mountebank as well as 
the secretive gambler. There were others who 
showed refinement and whose speech betrayed deep 
thought and erudition. Others again were dressed 
in all sorts of costumes. A few wore red hoods with 
long tassels hanging down their backs, causing one to 
have visions of Turks or Arabs. 

An aged man was sitting in the hotel lobby, busily 
engaged in figuring on his red-tanned boot with a 
pencil. Presently he said: 

" Say, mister, did you ever figure on what Klon- 
dike is now doing for the world, and the gold 
standard? " 

" I confess that I have not," I answered. 

" Well, sir, I am nearly eighty years old, and I 
have spent most of my days in mining countries. I 
have been in Alaska for more than twenty years. 
Old man Church has been there thirty years. But 
that is not what I started in to say. You probably 
know that the United States was a pauper in '46 
and '47. Farmers were trading work and they didn't 
know what money looked like. The discovery of 



110 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

gold in California brought good times, and people 
pricked up their ears and acted as if there was some- 
thing in life worth living for. Young men who had 
returned from the West, bought land, married and 
settled down, and put their gold into circulation. 
Well, the discovery of gold in Australia did the same 
thing for the world, and so did that of Africa; and 
now Klondike steps into the ring just as the precious 
metal was being cornered and hard times were com- 
ing on. Why, my dear fellow, it would surprise us 
if we could follow only one thousand dollars of that 
gold which goes down to the States and pays debts. 
It would be seen that it paid a million dollars of debts 
in no time. And it is put in circulation where it is 
most needed. 

" Of course, it is not always properly started. I 
have known rattle-brains up there who have never 
realized that such good luck only happens once in a 
lifetime, and they are there, now, just throwing 
away the money with both hands. One hand is not 
fast enough for them, and they keep waiters busy 
uncorking champagne at ten dollars per bottle. They 
won't last long. I knew one fellow to cry because 
some sharpers got him drunk, took eight hundred 
dollars of his Forty-mile dust and instead placed a 
deed to a claim which they had located up a creek in 
his pocket. Then they lit out on a down-river boat 
and there he was broke and blubbering about not 
knowing what to do with a mining claim. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 111 



" Well, old John Healey says, ( Ye blubberin' 
Idiot, come in to my store and git what ye want of 
grub, and go up there and see what ye have. Sink 
a hole and find out about it, fer ye might have some- 
thing good; and I'd rather have ye owin' me fer the 
grub, than to see ye feelin' bad and busted.' 

" Well, he did load up with grub, and went up 
there and struck it rich, and now he is one of those 
fellers who can't spend money fast enough. Why, 
he says he thinks he used good judgment in buying 
that claim ! " 

Then my informer clapped his thighs and laughed, 
and presently he continued: 

" There's another ' Sweet- William ' sort of a fel- 
low, who is now engaged to marry a whole family of 
chorus girls. Just as rapidly as possible he marries 
one, and she gets a divorce and divides his money 
with him, and then he marries another. He says 
he'll marry their mother, after he gets through with 
the girls, if his money holds out. I'll gamble that 
he won't have any money after the old woman 
divides with him. She may give him back his empty 
purse, but I doubt it ! 

" But — say ! That's not what I started in to tell. 
I just figured out that it would require a pack-train 
of four hundred animals to bring out one year's pro- 
duction of gold from the Klondike. Now, if you 
allow each animal his usual thirty-three feet on the 
trail, you will have a train two and a half miles long ! 



112 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

That's what a pencil and that old boot can do with 
a little assistance from me and the Klondike ! " 

" I suppose you are leaving the country for good, 
are you not? " I asked. 

" Yes, I reckon I am," he answered. " I have not 
been back home since I first came to Alaska. You 
see, directly after I came up here, my wife died, and 
my little girl was well taken care of by relatives. I 
paid for her care and education, and now I hear she 
has married and is doing well. I have sent for her 
and her husband to meet me here, and I intend to go 
back home with them. I have dust enough to keep 
them and me, and I don't want to bother with it. I 
expect them on the next boat. I have been here for 
nearly a month, now." 

Then a large huskie dog came into the room and 
laid his head on the old man's lap and inquiringly 
looked up. The old man stroked the dog and said: 

" Yes, old Mose. I know you want to ask some- 
thing. It is too bad for you that you can't talk, but 
it probably is a good thing for me; for you would be 
pesterin' me to death, askin' questions. I suppose 
you want to know when the old man is going to hit 
the trail back to Dawson. Well, old boy, we never 
will see that trail again, for we are going to where 
there's no sour dough, but the luxury and ease we 
both deserve." 

"Your dog?" I asked. 

" Yes, always has been mine, ever since he was a 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 113 

pup. He once saved my life. You should have heard 
an Englishman apologize to this dog! I loaned 
Mose to him to teach his dogs to work. He 
had Mose on the lead, and continued to say * gee ' 
until Mose had his sled nearly off the trail and ready 
to roll down the canyon. Then the Englishman 
yelled, ' whoa ! ' Mose stopped and the English- 
man said: 

' Ah, beg your pawden ! I meant haw, dont- 
cher know ! ' 

" Mose just crossed over to the other side of the 
trail and looked back at that Englishman with a 
genuine dog-laugh, and the driver seemed never to 
get through apologizing." 

Then my entertainer clapped his thigh and laughed 
heartily. 

"I suppose you place a high value on him?" I 
ventured to ask. 

Immediately his countenance sobered, and while 
he affectionately stroked the dog, he replied: 

" Mister, don't ask me to place a value on my 
partner. I couldn't think of it! Why, if I should 
lose my poke of dust, rather than to part with Mose, 
we would hit the trail back and try for another 
raise." 

Evidently, this was another of those frontier noble- 
men, whose characters stand out in such strong con- 
trast with the spendthrifts he had mentioned, both 
of whom have since descended the ladder to the bot- 



114 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



torn rung. When the latter was asked what he had 
done with the fortune he had made on the Klondike, 
he held up three fingers and exclaimed: 

"Three blondes !" 

A meeting had been held down at the wharf, a 
year before, to rid the town of " Soapy " Smith and 
his gambling and robbing clique. " Soapy " heard 
of the meeting and went down there, armed With a 
rifle, to break it up. Frank Reid was left on guard, 
and he gave up his life for the honor of Skagway. 
As " Soapy " approached they both fired with fatal 
results, and their two graves are up yonder beside the 
trail. " Soapy " Smith's real name was Jefferson R. 
Smith, of whom the "Tramp Poet," William De- 
Vere, wrote the verses entitled " Jeff and Joe," de- 
scribing an incident that happened at Creede, Colo- 
rado. 

Skagway, the town of sudden and unexpected birth, 
is not without its history of startling and pathetic 
incidents. An account of the following tragedy was 
related to me in detail by an Indian interpreter, and 
corresponds with the records in Skagway's court: 

Bert Horton and his wife, from Oregon, were 
spending the first year of their married life in Alaska, 
and had left Skagway in a small rowboat for a 
summer's outing. The day of their departure was 
one of the long summer sort whose sunshine and 
shade are conducive to day-dreaming. 

They directed their boat down along the shore of 
that long slender arm of the sea, known as Lynn 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 115 

Canal, searching for a quiet camping place among the 
trees, where moss covered the ground and wild roses 
breathed a welcome. Through an opening in the 
forest they noted an inviting locality, and landing 
their boat on the beach, climbed to it. There they 
erected their tent, put up a Yukon stove, and soon 
were partaking of the first meal in their summer 
home. Happy? Why not? They belonged to the 
class that commands respect, and they enjoyed the 
affection of their many friends. They possessed even 
more, and that was their mutual contentment in each 
other's love. They had come from the humdrum 
of civilization to enjoy recreation, and now, after 
their noonday meal, they sat on a moss-covered 
log, hand in hand, and admiringly gazed on the 
placid water, talking of their hopes and pros- 
pects. 

Lynn Canal is not always calm, but often its sur- 
face is disturbed by sudden squalls ; and running tides 
make it dangerous to those in small canoes at such 
times. As the evening's twilight stealthily absorbed 
the day, little birds twittered in the trees, and occa- 
sionally a lone raven flew past, or alighted for a mo- 
ment on a near-by hemlock, and there mockingly re- 
peated his doleful message. Who knows but that 
the raven's lone, sepulchral " caw " grated with 
ominous sound on the nerves of that delicately re- 
fined woman? 

There was being prepared an Indian marriage 
feast, " potlach" and carnival, only a few miles away, 



116 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

where wild-eyed, coarse-haired and uncouth savages 
expected to indulge in fantastic orgies and hilarious 
revelry. They were to be stimulated by potations 
of " hooch," a liquor obtained by the crude fermenta- 
tion of molasses, farinacious substances and fruit. 
Three Indians had been dispatched to the Mission to 
procure presents for the bride's parents and the 
11 potlatch " had been delayed until their return. 

During the night a storm arose and the returning 
Indians were drowned evidently near the point where 
the white caps lashed the beach by the summer camp 
of the Hortons. The squall calmed down when the 
sun arose the next morning, and the day promised 
to be another happy one for the campers. Save for 
the lonely call of that dark-plumed messenger, the 
raven, there was no indication that the sun's rays 
would witness a bloody tragedy — a horrible murder 
committed by fiends incarnate. 

When the three Indians failed to return from the 
Mission, there was great uneasiness among the tribe, 
and one Indian with a murderous heart swore by the 
Great Spirit that he would go in search of his rela- 
tives, who had been sent out the night before. If 
accident had befallen them, dire vengeance would be 
meted out by his own hands. 

He paddled his canoe along the shore until he ar- 
rived at the camp of the white people. There he 
found a paddle belonging to his relatives, which had 
floated up to the beach, and he demanded of the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 117 

white man an explanation of how it happened to be 
so near his tent. Receiving an evasive answer the 
Indian returned to his teepee swearing vengeance. 

There he commanded others to accompany him to 
the camp of the white people, where he promised to 
show them that the " white dogs " had murdered 
his relatives. This brutal savage already glorified 
in the distinction of being a murderer, and had 
shown a disposition to add other blood stains to his 
record. His capriciousness and unreliability had pro- 
claimed him to be an individual feared even by his 
own tribe. Mandatorily he bade them row the boat, 
while he sat in the stern, and with a dark scowling 
countenance vainly cast his murderous eye over the 
water for some signs of the lost ones. There was 
no word spoken by the paddlers, as the saturnine 
pilot might construe anything said as a reflection on 
his purpose. When they approached the shore where 
the happy people were camped, this brute commenced 
to curse the whole white race. 

The white man came out and sat on a log where 
he and his loving wife had sat the evening before, 
and watched the Indians make the landing, little 
realizing the condition of their deluded brains. The 
leader jumped ashore, and picking up the paddle, 
exclaimed : 

" This is the paddle that belonged to my rela- 
tives! The whites have murdered them! White 
dogs! White devils! " 



118 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

He then raised his gun and fired, and the white 
man fell dead beside the log. As his wife ran out 
of the tent to see what was the matter, she, too, re- 
ceived a deadly missile. She fell, but with that 
strange maternal instinct to cling to life, she at- 
tempted to rise. Then the murderer commanded a 
boy to run and cut her throat. The boy hesitated, 
but when the gun was pointed at him, he ran to that 
frail body, caught her hair, as she vainly struggled to 
arise, and as she screamed, " O Lord ! O Lord I " 
he did as he was bidden. The moss and leaves were 
crimson with her life-blood. 

The others approached and stood still, speechless 
with the horror of the crime, while the enormity of it 
all slowly penetrated the thick skull of the villain. 
The lonely raven flew overhead and, alighting on a 
hemlock, repeated, " O Lord! O Lord! " 

The murderer looked in startled astonishment, then 
raised his gun to fire, but the dark-winged messenger 
repeated " O Lord ! O Lord ! " and flew away. 
One of the others intimated that the raven should be 
treated as a sacred bird, but the villain replied : 

" He too much talk, talk, talk. Heap all-time 
talk!" 

The Indians returned to their village, and while 
the account of that terrible crime was whispered 
among them, great care was taken that it should not 
reach the ears of the whites. Almost every day the 
murderous Indian could be seen walking along the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 110 

beach and occasionally showing his antipathy towards 
the ravens by firing at some one of those dark-coated 
messengers. 

He spent the evenings listening to the teachings of 
a few Salvationists who had invaded the Indian 
camp. They earnestly taught that Jesus would for- 
give and save, and it acted as a healing balm to his 
bleeding conscience. 

" Does Jesus know all? " he asked. 

"Yes," was the reply, "confess and be forgiven; 
He will save you." 

His bushy head shook with emotion as he walked 
forward and said: 

" I will confess. He will save me ! He will pro- 
tect me! I killed a white man and a woman, and 
their bodies now lie near the beach of the canal, be- 
neath a blanket ! Yes, I killed them, and now I am 
saved ! " 

The confession was a surprise to those who heard 
it. Officers were sent for, and soon the actors in that 
awful tragedy were on their way to the white man's 
justice. The prime mover of the crime was tried 
and sentenced. When asked why judgment should 
not be enacted, he stood motionless. A raven flew 
overhead, and his call startled him when he stepped 
forward and said: 

"Yes, I made a mistake! My people were 
drowned and not killed by the white people, and I 
am willing to shed my blood because of what I did. 



120 Trailing and Camping in 'Alaska 

But, white man, you lie! iYou say Jesus save me! 
You lie!" 

The great ocean steamers plow the waters of 
Lynn Canal, their passengers lounging on the rail- 
ings and gazing at the gravelly beach and the wooded 
shore, where once there was a happy summer camp, 
and where, the Indians assert, a lone, dark glistening 
raven often alights in the drooping boughs of a 
hemlock, and mournfully repeats, u O Lord! O 
Lord!" 



CHAPTER IX 

Secretary Seward once was asked what he considered the 
most important act of his public career, and he replied: 
" The purchase of Alaska; but it will take the people d 
generation to find it out/' 

I boarded the steamer Cottage City, leaving Skag- 
way, and landed in the historical town of Sitka on 
February 20, 1899. Our route was one of those 
aquatic dreams — smooth passageways bordered with 
rocky shores and forests, so characteristic of those in- 
land waters of America's wonderland. There was 
one exception to this, however, and that was the 
passage of Cross Sound, where the open sea rolls in, 
and where boats, Sitka bound, wallow in the troughs 
of the waves for a few minutes. 

A young man who was on board remarked that 
he had come all the way from Seattle, and had not 
been seasick. In reality he had not been to sea, 
but had traveled on one of the longest stretches of 
calm salt water on the globe, and did not know it. 
He thought he had been on the ocean and was brag- 
ging about it. 

The steward ordered the waiters to put nothing on 
the tables until after we had crossed the sound, as 
we were nearing it, and from its rough appearance 

121 



122 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

there must be a storm outside. This young man paid 
no attention to that, for why should he? Had he 
not been to sea? I moved over to a cushioned seat 
which was bolted to the mast, directly opposite my 
seafaring companion. This was no more than ac- 
complished when such things as plates, knives and 
forks, which were already on the table, went flying 
across the room and music sheets from off the piano 
followed in close pursuit. The loose chairs, includ- 
ing the one occupied by the self-assumed " sea-salt," 
went tumbling also. The young man performed an 
acrobatic feat in the air and dashing over towards 
me, stuck a finger familiarly in one of my eyes, be- 
coming inextricably mixed up with his chair on its 
return trip. With my one eye I saw him lying 
against the wall, looking up between the chair rungs 
and regarding me with an expression of wild wonder, 
as if I had been hypnotizing him to perform in such 
a ridiculous manner. 

It appeared to dawn upon him gradually that there 
was something about this seafaring business, and also 
about his stomach, that he did not understand. He 
disengaged himself from the chair, and left it to con- 
tinue its gyrations, while he crawled on all fours to 
his stateroom. Fortunately it was near by, for he 
remarked afterwards that he arrived there just in the 
nick of time. 

The insertion of a bit of history may make the 
visit to the old town of Sitka more interesting. From 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 123 

the historians we learn that the country now known as 
Alaska was discovered on July 5, 1741, by one of 
Vitus Behring's ship captains named Chirikof. Ber- 
ing or Behring was a Dane in the employ of the 
Russians, and died December 8th, of the same year. 

Of course, it is probable that these shores had been 
trodden by white men before that time, but not in an 
official capacity. Credit is not always given to the 
real discoverers for their work. The Kit Carsons 
and not the Fremonts are the real pathfinders. Re- 
cently we have had some explorers in Alaska who 
possibly may discover New York or Chicago one of 
these days. 

Forty years after Bering discovered Alaska, a 
decree was issued by the Russian Government which 
gave a company the exclusive privilege to trade and 
hunt in its new possessions. It also advanced two 
hundred thousand rubles from the public treasury, to 
be paid in twenty annual installments, without in- 
terest. It is needless to say that the stockholders of 
the Company were closely connected with the Royal 
Household. This Company also bound itself to sup- 
port a Greek Catholic Church wherever an oppor- 
tunity to Christianize the natives might occur. 

Baranoff was appointed manager of that Com- 
pany in 1790. He was noted for his drunkenness, 
lewdness and lying, although in his report of his 
fight with the natives at Nutchek, he said: " As for 
myself, the Lord has protected me." He was a 



124 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

model of devotion, if carrying religion into business 
is holiness; for he caught his fur-bearing animals, 
fish and seals in the name of the Lord, then, very 
possibly, he would indulge in the worst profanity and 
go on a drunken debauch. 

Baranoff landed on that island, about six miles 
north of the present town of Sitka, on May 25, 
1799. He built a post and left for Kadiak during 
the autumn of 1800. That post was destroyed and 
its occupants massacred by an attacking party of 
about one thousand Indians, in June, 1802. Only 
three Russians escaped, and after making a hazard- 
ous journey along the several hundreds of miles of 
sea-coast, reported the disaster to Baranoff. 

In 1804, Baranoff, with one hundred and twenty 
Russians, followed by eight hundred Aleuts in their 
bidarkies, or skin canoes, returned to make war on 
the Kolosh tribes, and to reassert their claim to Sitka. 
The Russians were repulsed in a pitched battle near 
the mouth of Indian Creek, with a loss of twenty-six 
men, and Baranoff was wounded, while the Lord 
apparently protected the Indians. They were com- 
pelled to do the right thing by holding a conference 
with the Indians, who courteously allowed them to 
stake off a limited area of land where afterwards they 
built up the town of New Archangel, or Sitka. 

Here they forged iron, cast church bells, and built 
ships that sailed as far south as Mexico. They traded 
with the California Indians, and established there a 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 125 

colony of farmers on a river that was afterwards 
named Russian River. Baranoff petitioned to be re- 
lieved, but his request was not granted until 1818. 
He started home, but died on the way at the age of 
seventy-two years. He had spent twenty-eight years 
as a tyrannical ruler among priests, Indians and 
convicts. During that time he had cleared six mil- 
lions of dollars for his Company, and meanwhile 
Napoleon had been attempting to overthrow the life 
of his government in another hemisphere. 

Poor Sitka ! It has struggled for a hundred years 
simply to hold its own, and not a very sightly place 
for a town at that. It was attacked by Indians as 
late as 1856. After a hot battle for two hours the 
natives were repulsed ; they left one hundred of their 
dead around those old block-houses, up there on the 
hill. 

Sitka has a thrilling history of mingled romance, 
worship and feasts; crime, war and murder; and it 
has survived different forms of ownership, from the 
domination of whiskey to " hoochenoo." 

Slowly we approached Sitka, where the Indian 
town adjoins it on our left. Numerous rocky islets 
were between us and the wide ocean. We landed at 
a wharf where a uniformed sentry paced back and 
forth, but he does that only on steamer days. We 
passed through a low shed of a warehouse, where 
about twenty squaws sat with their backs against a 
wall, having numerous articles of their handiwork, 



126 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

such as moccasins and buckskin purses, spread out 
for sale in front of them. 

We turned to the right and stood on a rocky prom- 
inence where once was Baranoff Castle. It was there 
that the formal transfer of Alaska from one foreign 
power to another was made on October 18, 1867, 
by the lowering of the Russian flag, and the hoisting 
of that of the United States. 

An Indian who was present at the time remarked : 

" We gave the Russians the privilege to live 
among us, but not the right to sell us and our whole 
country to another power." 

Yes, there once stood the Baranoff Castle and it 
was there that the Russian ruler displayed his fits of 
good feeling by giving suppers — feasts they were — 
where the flow of wine and stronger drinks resulted 
in drunken orgies and the wildest revelry. It was 
there also that he issued edicts which sent from his 
presence official dignitaries retiring like menials. 

After Baranoff's career had ended, the impression 
which the lonely mansion always gave to those who 
were familiar with its history was that its dark and 
dismal halls were frequented with visitations from 
the dead. Old women, who once had been the girl 
guests at the castle's receptions, declared they saw 
ghostly apparitions floating around the place, and 
that they believed it was visited frequently by the 
spirit of the one beloved daughter of Baranoff. 

This harbor of ghosts, reminiscent of wild trage- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 127 

dies and of scarcely less savage scenes of dissipation, 
was doomed to disappear, for one dark night it 
passed away in a lurid glare of fiery destruction. 

An era of military control followed the transfer, 
which was accompanied by drunken debauchery. 
The soldiers exerted a demoralizing influence over 
the natives of Sitka and even murdered some of 
them. The worst curse that can happen to a coun- 
try is that it be subjected to military rule. Human 
beings of all mixtures are more peaceable in the en- 
joyment of individual prosperity, even without the 
mandate of written law, than when placed under an 
arbitrary military autocrat who has the power to 
order his automata to murder, whether for right or 
wrong. Military rule is all right in war, but it is an 
enemy to peace and good citizenship. The major- 
ity of people are good and just, therefore let the 
majority rule, and you will have law, pure and 
simple. 

I attended a church in Sitka where the minister 
prayed for his sect and all the public officials of the 
United States, and I felt slighted. On my return 
to the boarding-house, I witnessed a fight between 
a raven and three chickens over the possession of a 
bone. The raven whipped the chickens, then a pup 
butted in, but a hog — like monopolists the world 
over — finally took possession of the prize. 

Ravens are the city's scavengers and are very 
tame. During my stay in Sitka some boys proved 



128 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

that a raven could count up to seven. There was an 
old unoccupied house where the ravens were accus- 
tomed to alight and make remarks about people as 
they passed, but they would not alight on the roof if 
they knew a person was in the house. Five boys en- 
tered the house and came out, one at a time, the last 
one lingering for half an hour, but the ravens refused 
to return until he had come out; whereupon they im- 
mediately took possession of the roof and bragged 
about their cunning. Six boys tried the same experi- 
ment with like result, and so did seven, but when 
eight entered and seven came out, the ravens became 
mixed in the count. The boys could fool them, after 
that, if they could assemble a crowd of more than 
seven. I had often wondered how Poe's raven could 
say " nevermore," but I found that an Alaska raven 
can say words that are not even in the dictionary. 
He has the vocabulary of a common scold, and the 
inquisitiveness of a village gossip. 

I was persuaded by an enemy in the disguise of a 
friend, to take a Russian bath as administered in 
Sitka. If you are convinced that your sins have 
found you out, and are sufficiently desperate to risk 
the punishment, take this advice: Leave your hope 
with your clothes in the little hell adjoining. When 
you enter that place of torment, you realize that the 
breathing element is pure steam, caused by hot rock 
placed in a barrel of water. You observe next that 
water is running from every part of your body, and 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 129 



feebly you grope in that vaporous atmosphere to a 
bunk, hayrack or guillotine, where you proceed to 
lay yourself out in as becoming an attitude as pos- 
sible, to await the end that you feel has overtaken 
you. As you observe two rawhide strings which 
once served you as legs, you begin to make a mental 
calculation of how long it will require for you to 
shrink up so that you can roll off that place of tor- 
ture and drop through a crack in the floor; or, if 
you should remain, how soon you will be able to 
float away, as a ghostly apparition. 

This thought may arouse you to make a last des- 
perate effort, and in the struggle you may float to a 
barrel of cold water, where you pour a bucketful on 
what is left of your person, and then escape into the 
ante-room. There, when drying yourself, you will 
realize the need of a magnifying glass with which to 
make an inspection of what is left of your anatomy. 

After I had indulged in this bath, my expression 
must have exposed my reflections, for they asked me, 
at the boarding-house, if I had not taken a Russian 
bath. I then proceeded to take on another load of 
sins by declaring it was simply delightful and by ad- 
vising my interrogator to try it. I generally bathe 
in the ocean or the river in the springtime of the 
year, and once took a foot-bath in Copper River that 
extended several feet above my head, but one Rus- 
sian bath is sufficient for a lifetime. 

I spent three weeks in getting tired of Sitka seen- 



130 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

ery, of tumbled-down log structures, blockhouses of 
untold history, and the old graveyard on the hill 
where are headboards on which are inscribed death- 
dates that have been dimmed by more than a hundred 
winters. 

In Baranoff's historical works (see Vol. 33, page 
705 ) , he says of the old church at Sitka : " The Sitka 
Cathedral contains altars, which were separated 
from the body of the church by a partition, 
the doors of which are gilt, and the pilasters mounted 
with gold capitals. There were eight silver candle- 
sticks, more than eight feet in length, and a silver 
chandelier hanging from the center of the dome 
which was supported by a number of columns of the 
Byzantine order. On the altar was a miniature tomb 
of the Saviour in gold and silver. The vestments 
and implements were also rich in gold and jewels. 
The books were bound in gold and crimson velvet, 
and adorned with miniatures of the evangelists set 
in diamonds. The communion was a cup of gold 
similarly embellished; the miter was covered with 
pearls, rubies, emeralds and diamonds." 

It does not astonish me that some United States 
soldiers, in 1869, were drummed out of the service 
for attempting to rob that church. I had long de- 
sired to inspect the interior, and the opportunity now 
was presented. I entered the church to see it, as well 
as to pay my respects to the dead. A funeral was be- 
ing conducted there according to the orthodox cere- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 131 

monies of the Greek Church. The blue-domed 
building with its minaret surmounted by a triple 
barred cross gave it a mosque-like appearance. As 
there were no seats, everybody knelt and listened to 
the solemn chant led by a long-bearded, long-haired 
and long-robed Muscovite priest, while the choir of 
little boys creditably rendered their part. 

The priest constantly swung his censer. It was a 
kind of covered saucer that hung from his arm, and 
emitted a cloudlet of smoke. It could smoke but 
you could not, unless you were willing to be consigned 
to a place where smoking is said to be a continuous 
performance. One man attempted to smoke a ciga- 
rette in that church, but was at once escorted to the 
door by an observant worshiper. Arriving outside, 
however, the stern censor of decorum and morality 
asked the offender if he possessed another cigarette 
that he could spare. 

I came away from that funeral with the consoling 
thought that if a good man took the Copper River 
route, he would, even through that side entrance, find 
eternal rest. Of course many would be jealous, be- 
cause he did not follow their particular trail, but he 
would be there anyway. 

There was one beautiful painting of the Madonna 
which has left an indelible impression. I failed to 
find any one who knew when it had been painted, as 
they said it had been done by some old Greek master, 
hundreds of years ago, but that there was no positive 



132 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

record of it known. I was also informed that a noted 
American heiress had offered $50,000 for it, and her 
offer had been refused; also that $100,000 had 
been offered as security for its safe return, if the 
church would allow it to be placed on exhibition at the 
Chicago Fair, but that, too, had been refused. 

No artist living at the present day could have 
painted a more beautiful and harmonious expression 
of countenance. That alone, of all the sights of 
Sitka, was to me the most impressive, and, in leav^ 
ing, the one I wished ever to retain. 



CHAPTER X 

One Coast Siwash tribe's genealogy goes back to the 
raven, and those birds have gone into mourning ever since 
the hatching of that particular nest of eggs. 

There are Indians in Alaska who trace their 
origin to the beaver, and most of those tribes make 
totem poles by cutting large images of their supposed 
ancestors in trees. The bark is peeled from the tree, 
and then they carve upon it unsightly pictures of their 
assumed ancestors, one above another, until they use 
up about all of their tree and exhaust their fund of 
fantastic delusions. These poles are erected in front 
of their dwellings, so that all may read their illus- 
trated book of genealogy. During my stay at Sitka, 
one family entered into a dispute with another over 
the heritage of a totem pole, and Judge Tuttle was 
appealed to for a decision. It is to the credit of the 
Indians of the interior of Alaska, that they have no 
totem poles, and laugh at the ridiculous superstition 
of the " Fish-eaters," as they call them. 

Occasionally these poles are worth more than a 
passing notice, for sometimes they disclose tribal his- 
tory. The chief of the Bear tribe became chief by a 
succession of personal efforts and his merit, and did 
not inhfrit his position from an ancestry of chiefs, 

133 



134 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Like self-made men of all colors, he was justly proud 
of the result. In erecting his totem pole, he carved 
on it the tracks of a bear ascending to the top, and 
on the throne he carved the image of a bear, repre- 
senting Chief Bear, of the Bear tribe. However, he 
should have placed a notice thereon, saying, " This 
is a bear ! " I have heard other legends relating to 
that same pole, for almost every Indian one meets in 
Alaska is carrying a liberal supply of legends around 
in his head. 

There are many different kinds of pride existing 
among the human races. I have known educated 
white persons who took a pride in writing so that no 
one else could read it. They scratched in their names 
as if they desired to conceal their identity from any 
one who should attempt to decipher the chirog- 
raphy. 

I have known a man to be proud of the fact that 
he owned a bulldog and could lead him around by a 
string; this appeared to give him a feeling of supe- 
riority over others who had no bulldogs, as if he 
thought they could not afford such a luxury. It was 
a very appropriate combination, as the bulldog added 
dignity and brains to his owner. 

By the term tribe, as used in relation to those In- 
dians — and to most other Indians, for that matter — 
is meant families that have intermarried until great 
numbers are blood relations. There are but two dis- 
tinct classifications of the Alaskan Indians; those of 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 135 

the interior, and the fish-eating Siwash of the coast. 
It is doubtful if any scientist could determine the 
dividing line between the mythical Esquimos and 
their southern neighbors. Certain tribes of Indians 
are short, rotund and fleshy, being made so by their 
blubber-eating and sedentary habits. It is plainly 
evident, however, that all the Esquimo Indians are 
not as they were represented in the old school geog- 
raphies. 

Captain Roald Amundsen, in the report of his trip 
through the Northwest Passage, and of the Esqui- 
mos he then encountered, said: " They were fine men, 
these Esquimos, tall and strongly built. They were, 
moreover, slim, and as I said before, tall." The 
time has arrived when we must refer to the Esquimos 
as Esquimo Indians, and discontinue the deception 
that they are a separate class of human beings. 

I remember having seen a sawmill at Sitka, which 
was run by Indians, and there are Indian carpenters 
who have built their own neat cottages. They have 
many symmetrically hewn canoes; one of those that 
I examined measured eight feet in beam and was 
forty-five feet long. They said they had much larger 
ones. 

In company with a friend I took a stroll out to 
Indian Creek. We passed a church where we 
were told that the minister's sentences were repeated 
by an interpreter. We passed also an industrial 
school, then a museum; the former with animate, 



136 Trailing and Camping in 'Alaska 

and the latter with inanimate, curiosities. We left 
the town and walked along a highway that had been 
cut before our fathers were born, and found Indian 
Creek to be a beautiful clear stream, with a suspen- 
sion foot-bridge across it. 

The road wound back from here, through ever- 
green, hemlock, spruce and cedar trees, overshadow- 
ing a dense undergrowth. There was an occasional 
cleared spot where benches were placed for the con- 
venience of lovers, poets and other moony mortals. 
It is an idyllic spot. No wonder that the Sitka pa- 
pers have contained numerous marriage notices and 
original poems. Among the soul-stirring, heart-rend- 
ing and love-sighing poems that the emotional na- 
tures of Sitka have blasted out, one ends each stanza 
with the euphonious expression thus: 
" Let her go, Gallagher ! Let her go I " 
A white man who was so poetical as to marry a 
dusky maiden of the forest, known by the name of 
Anna Hootz, was evidently in a poetical mood when 
his squaw eloped with a pig-eyed Chinaman. A few 
explanations are necessary for the reader to fully 
appreciate his poetical effort. He should understand 
that the Coast Indians grow up in canoes, and con- 
sequently are crooked of limb, and more or less 
crippled, and that all Indians, like Japs, are " pigeon- 
toed " ; also, there is no perfume so attractive to a 
squaw-man as the scent of old dried salmon. This 
poem was published in a pamphlet, entitled " Poems 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 137 

on Alaska, by Alaskans." Two blocks of it are 
submitted as samples from the ledge : 

"And the scent of the salmon lingers yet 
In the place where she used to be, 
And while life lasts I shall never forget 
How sweet its perfume to me. 
And the blear-eyed children on her knee, 
With legs adapted to crooked boots, — 
The patentee sign of Anna Hootz. 

And now I sit by the smoky fire 

Through the day and twilight's dim, 

Cherishing only a wild desire 

To build an elaborate funeral pyre 

And get one chance at Jim; 

I'd mangle and tear him limb from limb 

And boil him well in a copper pot 

In a place where Anna Hootz is not." 

We returned to town over that picturesque high- 
way, and, as many have done before, gazed long to 
the northward upon the interesting scene of Mt. 
Edgecomb, an extinct volcano resembling a carbuncle 
that had lost its heart. 



CHAPTER XI 

Nature sometimes gives us the impression that she is not 
always just, A scientist found a bug on the Malispina 
glacier upon which he inflicted the name of Malanenchy- 
tracus SolifiguSj and the bug died, but the scientist lived! 

As it was nearing the time for explorations in the 
Alaskan Range, I left Sitka, the place of seven feet 
of annual rainfall, and government officials who 
have been too. prominent in politics at some time or 
another. 

It was during this summer that E. H. Harriman 
chartered a steamer and, accompanied by a select 
number of scientists, spent some time in Yakutat 
Bay and various other places along the Alaska Coast. 
It is probable that it was the greatest coterie of wise- 
acres that ever visited the North, and it is vastly to 
their credit that they refrained from renaming and 
rediscovering everything they saw. They attempted, 
however, to change an arm of Yakutat Bay, known 
as Disenchantment Bay, to Russell Fiord. They did 
not see all of the glaciers in Alaska, but on beholding 
a few of them they inflicted upon them the college 
names of Harvard, Yale, Smith, Bryn Mawr, Vassar, 
Wellesley, Wells and Amherst. They did give a few 
glaciers the appropriate and original names of Stair- 

138 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 139 

way and Serpentine; but other scientists may come 
along and change them. 

Just think how the American zoologists have 
abused the poor little white-tailed deer! Bodheart, 
as far back as 1785, inflicted on it the name of Cervus 
virginianus. Every time a scientist caught one of the 
species during the next hundred years, evidently he 
turned it loose to drag another name after it. In 
1884 they started in on another century of names by 
calling that deer Cariacus virginianus; in 1895, Dor- 
celaphus virginianus; in 1897, Dorcelaphus ameri- 
canus; in 1898, Mazama americanus, and in 1902, 
Dama virginiana. Why not insert White-tail-deer 
for iana and say Dama Virgin White-tail-deer? 

It does not surprise me in the least that this deer is 
so wild and timid. He generally runs when fright- 
ened, and unlike the Blacktail deer, does not stop 
to gaze at a hunter, but when last seen is always try- 
ing to uphold his true name by flying his white flag. 
It is a crime against Nature for scientists to twist that 
deer's tail into so dangerously unmanageable names. 

When we left Yakutat our boat lowered and rose 
with the sea-swells as her engines drove us westward 
at a twelve-knot gait. We looked up twenty thou- 
sand feet at the top of Mt. St. Elias, and also saw 
the great Malispina glacier that rested at its base. 
This glacier was discovered by Alejandro Malis- 
pina, a scientist, who accompanied a. Spanish expedi- 
tion along that coast in 1791. 



140 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

We crossed in front of the Copper River delta, 
sixty-five miles in width, over which the wintry blasts 
are hurled from the interior. This river was first 
located by Caudra, second in command under Artega. 

We steamed around by Nutchek Bay, where on 
May 12, 1778, Captain Cook cast anchor to repair 
a leakage in his ship. There was then and is now an 
Indian village at that place. No doubt there are old 
wrinkled natives there who could tell their grandchil- 
dren of their battle with the whites, whom they re- 
pulsed so long ago when Baranoff was the White 
Chieftain. 

We passed Fidalgo Bay, named after Lieutenant 
Salvador Fidalgo, of the same expedition that dis- 
covered Valdez Bay in 1790. At Valdez we found 
squalor and misery, many of the half-starved pros- 
pectors being afflicted with scurvy. Charley Brown 
had condemned a government mule, and it had been 
gladly eaten by the inhabitants. A whale had drifted 
in to shore, and a portion of it had been eaten. 
Many had come over the glacier, and others had 
lost their lives in the attempt, and the little grave- 
yard had been enlarged. Here is an incident worthy 
of detail: 

A dog-team galloped up and stopped in front of 
the only pretense of a hotel in Valdez. The night 
was dark, as the northern winter nights always are, 
when the moon is not shining. The dogs immedi- 
ately lay down, almost exhausted from their long 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 141 

trip, and the two men soon were surrounded by in- 
quiring friends. One of the two said: 

"What do you think, fellows? We passed a 
woman, just this side of Saw-Mill Camp, who was 
pulling a sled on which was her sick husband. We 
remonstrated against the undertaking of crossing the 
glacier, but she replied that they might as well die 
up there as anywhere else, as it meant certain death 
to stop. Our dogs could only pull our oufit, and 
there wasn't grub enough for all, so we were com- 
pelled to leave them. They will be at the last timber 
to-night and if somebody doesn't go to their rescue, 
they will be dead by this time to-morrow." 

A man stepped out from the crowd and said : 

" I'll go for one ! Now who else has a good dog- 
team to splice in with mine? " 

" I'm your huckleberry! " announced another. 

It was three o'clock in the morning before they 
had made their selection of dogs and were ready to 
start on that hazardous trip. 

" We'll be on the first bench by daylight, and have 
them here before to-morrow's midnight," said one, 
as he straightened out the team. " That dog Rex 
will be pulling against the collar when we return, and 
Sport will get us back if he barks every jump for the 
whole of that sixty miles ! " 

"Yea, Boys! Stand in there, Leader! Mush, 
mush on, mush ! " and with a yelp the dogs galloped 
away, as if aware of the urgency of their mission. 



142 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

"Haw, Leader! " was heard, as they turned the 
corner, and then they were gone. 

" There goes the best dog-team in Alaska, and 
driven by the best two men on earth ! " exclaimed a 
man as he re-entered the house. 

The trail was easily followed, and soon the nine 
miles of level bench were passed. The speed slack- 
ened only when they were ascending the summit, 
which they reached by eleven that morning, and there 
it was seen that the sharp peaks were curling fine 
snow high in the air. 

" They are beginning to smoke ! " remarked one 
of the men. 

" Yes, and we must get back here before night, or 
it's all off ! " replied the other. 

Down, down the steep descent they plunged, and 
by one o'clock they were off the glacier and skipping 
over level ground. The poor woman had pulled the 
sled until she had become exhausted and had sat 
down beside her husband. She was weeping bitterly 
when a noise startled her, and listening, she plainly 
heard the yell of a driver and the barking of dogs. 
With tears dimming her eyes she discovered them 
rapidly approaching, and as the team galloped in a 
circle and stopped beside her with the dogs' heads 
pointed back towards the glacier, she clapped her 
hands with joy, for they had come to her rescue ! 

The dogs lay down, and with their lolling tongues 
lapped the snow, while the drivers ate some crack- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 143 

ers and jokingly encouraged the sick man and help- 
less woman. She was bidden to seat herself com- 
fortably, while they fastened the two sleds together. 
Soon they were bounding away at such a rapid rate 
of speed, that the woman again wept, but for joy. 
When they recrossed the summit the whole range was 
" smoking " and the wind was sending the fine snow 
along the crust. It whipped their faces with a warn- 
ing of what was coming; but the driver said: 
" Twenty miles to town and it can never catch us 1 " 
Townsmen anxiously waited and looked up the 
trail, and many exclaimed, " They can't possibly be 
here before midnight," but they were. As they 
rushed up to the crowd with a yell, and a glad bark 
from the noble dogs, they were surrounded by eager, 
helping hands. The dogs acted as if they understood 
why they were being petted so. Again the woman 
wept for joy. Yes, they were saved — not by men of 
good intentions only, but by men of instant action. 

The rescued are now living at Valdez. The snow 
disappeared, the scurvyites recovered, flowers 
bloomed, birds sang and the nights rapidly disi- 
solved into continuous daylight. I was eager to 
explore where, 

"Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, 
The waters are sparkling in grove and glen." 

I had informed a military officer of my intention 
to make an attempt to find Captain West's placers, 



144 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and he had asked me to accept a proposition of act- 
ing as government scout which I accepted. That 
would take me right into the mountains, and while 
looking for passes through them, I could also keep 
my eye out for the location of the West discovery. 

Fortunately, I had told him only about that part 
of the story West had told his men regarding its lo- 
cation on the headwaters of the Tanana, and had 
retained my own opinion about the gold really being 
on the headwaters of the Chistochina. 

How I chafed to get away, but could not. I was 
retained as guide on the trail, while others were sent 
towards the headwaters of the Tanana. Oscar Rohn, 
the geologist, went into the Tanana, and Cooper, a 
former friend of that military officer, also left Cop- 
per Center with horses he had wintered inside; he 
was breaking strings to get on to the headwaters of 
the Tanana. There I was, without a horse, or the 
possibility of getting one, and compelled to play a 
waiting game while others wore themselves out nib- 
bling at the West bait. 

True, I should have arranged to have gone in on 
my own account, and over the snow in the spring, but 
it was now too late. I was compelled to content my- 
self with blazing the trail along the precipitous walls 
of Keystone Canyon; there watching the silvery 
threads of water falling for five hundred feet or 
more, and spreading their spray in beautiful rain- 
bows. 




8 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 145 

Surely no route exists that excels in grandeur the 
scenery between Valdez and the Yukon. It is a treat 
to the lover of sublimity, to hie away to the recesses 
of those coast mountains, on a warm, sunny day, and 
drink from the cool streams of the nectar " fit for the 
gods." Precipices, extending upwards to dizzy and 
astonishing heights, where the eaglet is taught his 
first lesson, loom up before one, who vainly en- 
deavors to comprehend the immensity of the sur- 
roundings. One cannot realize that the plainly seen 
volcanic smoke from Mt. Wrangell is probably 
one hundred miles away; nor that the waterfalls 
near by, that pour over bluffs with a continuous roar, 
are fed by melting snows and glaciers, thousands of 
feet above and miles beyond. This Coast Range is 
one vast collection of waterfalls, that roar you to 
sleep, then awaken you to make you feast your eyes 
on their spreading spray. Speechless with admira- 
tion you stand and gaze at the beautiful and varie- 
gated colors of their rainbows. 



CHAPTER XII 

'An Indian said: "Indian shoot black bear, bear die; In* 
dian shoot glacier bear, may-be-so bear die; Indian shoot 
grizzly bear, Indian die" 

On May 8, I camped with Amy, Louvrous, Finch, 
Fish, Fitch, and others, who were sledding their out- 
fits over the divide. A little black bear came right 
into camp and I missed a butt-of-an-ear shot at no 
greater distance than 30 paces. I was shooting a 
Winchester cartridge with smokeless powder and a 
solid bullet from a Frontier revolver, and was con- 
fident of being able to hit a silver dollar at that dis- 
tance. As the shot was fired, he lowered his head, 
and then bounded away as a second bullet cut the 
bark of a tree behind him. I did not expect forgive- 
ness from those men for that careless sort of shooting 
and deserved the ridicule received for it. 

One whole day was spent in crossing the divide, as 
the snow was soft and deep, and at night I threw my 
sleeping-bag down on some boughs on eight feet of 
snow, among the trees of the Tekeil River bottom. 
There were hundreds of ptarmigan cackling around 
camp the next morning, and it was amusing to hear 
them say, " O, come back! Come back!" Soon I 
had killed ten of them and we spent the whole of that 

146 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 147 

day resting and eating ptarmigan stew. I explored 
to the source of that river, to determine if it were 
possible to construct a trail through by way of Ton- 
sina Lake. While up there, I shot a mountain goat 
that was wearing a very heavy coat of mohair. Those 
goats of the Coast Range are very large, but this 
one was so emaciated it could not be eaten; and be- 
cause of their poor condition I refrained from shoot- 
ing others on this trip. The old Alaska goats keep 
right in the fashion of their civilized brothers by 
wearing whiskers on their chin. 

I returned to Dutch Flat and found that one of 
the Drase brothers had killed the little black bear 
which I had missed a few days before. This Dutch 
Flat ends in the upper gorge of Keystone Canyon, 
which is about three miles from end to end. Lieu- 
tenant Brookfield, Dr. Lewis, Mr. Gardner, Mr. 
Flemmings, and another man whose name is now for- 
gotten, attempted, in the spring of 1898, to float 
through that box canyon on a raft. They had 
climbed over the mountain and had descended into 
this place. They were tired and hungry, and, rather 
than spend a day or two in climbing back to get out, 
they decided to go through the canyon in a few 
minutes. 

At that time this canyon never had been explored 
to their knowledge, and for all they knew, they might 
be hurled over falls that were anywhere from five to 
five hundred feet high; so under those circumstances 



148 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

it was one of the most foolish escapades ever under- 
taken by men of sane minds. They built a raft 
of logs and willow withes; then each man armed 
himself with a pole, and as they shoved the raft out 
in the mad stream they waved their hats at nobody 
and yelled, " Vive Cuba Libre! " Above the sound 
of that mad rushing water and those madder human 
adventurers, the mountain echoed Alaska's greeting 
to the southern isle. 

At the entrance of the canyon, the water piles up 
against a perpendicular wall, then turns squarely 
to the left. It was there that the voyagers were in- 
troduced to the magnitude of their undertaking. The 
lieutenant commanded: "Present poles!" and they 
did so, in a brave but futile attempt either to prevent 
the raft, with thousands of tons of water driving be- 
hind, from striking the rock, or to push aside that 
five-hundred-foot wall, buttressed with a mountain. 

They and the wall met squarely; the raft dodged 
the problem of the irresistible missile meeting the 
immovable object, and continued down stream, while 
five men were held out in the air on the ends of their 
poles for a second. Then five hats were to be seen 
floating on the surface of the water, but not a man 
was visible. Ten more seconds and the men were 
swimming for the raft, far below the place of the 
first disaster. One climbed up on it, just as it was 
about to turn turtle, and then the raft was on top of 
the man. Another moment, and two men were on 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 149 

the raft, but the others were attempting to climb on, 
while it was approaching another rock wall. The 
man in the water below the raft had his chin resting 
on board in such a manner that when the raft struck 
the rock he would be decapitated. 

One benevolent fellow, taking in the situation, did 
not care for the ghastly scene of having a head on 
board without a body attached to it, and thinking it 
would be preferable to the struggling mortal to 
drown rather than to have his head chopped off with 
a dull raft, he reached forth, took hold of the man's 
hair and, shoving him beneath, the raft glided over. 
The raft struck the wall, whirled and passed on, 
while a nearly drowned man was attempting to climb 
on to the rear end. Another half-minute and instead 
of a raft there were five separate logs with a man 
clinging to each one of them. They managed to 
find small landings, and all got out on one side, ex- 
cept Gardner, who crawled out on the east shore. 

There were several small ravines cutting down 
into the canyon, and up those, by clinging to alder 
brush, the swimmers could climb out of the river, so 
they took to the mountain's sides. The remainder of 
the day was spent in clinging to rocky steeps, while 
the enraged, serpent-like river went winding and 
crawling beneath. Gardner, who came out of the 
canyon on the wrong side of the river, swam across 
that night. The next day they all arrived in Valdez, 
hatless, coatless and half starved. A year later, 



150 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" Tex " and Schelly attempted to go through the 
same canyon on a raft, but with similar results. 

On July 8 I climbed to the top of a mountain, 
about 5000 feet above Dutch Flat, and there wit- 
nessed a most glorious sunrise. The fog came roll- 
ing in from the bay and ascended the canyons until 
there were only a few peaks left above it, like islands 
in a moving sea. To those in camp, far below, this 
was a dense cloud high above them ; to me, it was an 
ocean, probably a thousand feet below. It rolled along 
and met a similar sea of fog which had ascended the 
Copper River, and poured through Thompson Pass 
into the Tekeil country. It appeared but a mile or 
two across that sea of vapor to the opposite side ; yet 
it was about as reasonable to think that one could 
boat across such an arm of the sea, as to believe that 
four thousand feet below was a valley with spruce 
forests, where one hundred men and as many horses 
were building a trail for Uncle Sam. The sun shone 
warmly up there, while those below were obscured 
from its rays. 

I descended into that vapor, where distances and 
objects appear very deceptive. When near the lower 
edge of it, I discovered what I took to be a mountain 
sheep, standing on a rock. The distance to the object 
appeared to be about seventy yards. I decided to 
shoot it in the sticking place, as hunters call a certain 
part of the neck, when suddenly the thing stood up 
on its hind legs ! 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 151 

" How stupid to think that a bear was a sheep ! " 
I said to myself. 

The aim was changed to the end of its nose, be- 
cause the smokeless powder would send a bullet to 
its brain and avoid argument. Away went the bullet 
and over turned the supposed bear. I thought that 
he would roll down on about an acre of snow which 
appeared to be just below there. Imagine my sur- 
prise when I approached and found that instead of 
the acre of snow it comprised about thirty acres, and 
was half a mile away; and moreover, that the bear 
was only a whistling marmot (hedgehog) which 
weighed about fifteen pounds ! 

Once four soldiers were on the Valdez glacier 
when the atmospherical conditions were similar to 
those just related. They were extra good shots, all 
of them. They discovered what they supposed to be 
a bear, and with their army rifles, fired several shots 
without disturbing him. They decided, then, that he 
was too far away, so they raised their sights to six 
hundred yards and fired some more, with like effect. 
One decided to approach nearer, but he had walked 
only a few steps when he stopped, looked a while, 
lowered his sights and deliberately killed what proved 
to be a marmot, only about forty-five steps from 
them. 

If you should see a snow bird on the glacier at 
such a time, you would think probably that it was a 
goose. 



152 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

On one occasion when in a fog of high altitudes, 
and when the atmosphere was in a magnifying mood, 
I ran almost plump against a huge grizzly. I will 
not now tell of his hugeness, but will wait a few more 
years until my nerves are sufficiently relaxed, and 
then I will pick my subject — one who is physically 
strong enough to bear up under the load, after he has 
been given ample time to brace himself; and I will 
tell it to him by installments, too, for it would be un- 
reasonable to expect any one to take on the whole 
cargo at once. 

A few days after that mountain climb I assisted a 
few prospectors across a glacier stream, and Mr. 
Fowler, a gentleman from Missouri, attempted to 
ride behind me on a bucking mustang. He expressed 
more confidence in his horsemanship before he 
mounted than afterwards. That cayuse began im- 
mediately to take exercise. He bucked over boulders 
and into the stream, where we all disappeared from 
view in deep water. The horse lost his buck and a 
passenger while beneath that water. I discovered 
Mr. Fowler's pistol-pocket floating above the sur- 
face, and as that was all of his ship that was in sight, 
I attempted to run the horse down there and pull 
him ashore, but presently he floated to shallow 
water and then crawled out — cold, hatless and 
unhurt. 

Dorsey Leavell was my companion for a month 
while we chased, abused, packed and repacked two 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 153 

of the worst mustangs that ever came into Uncle 
Sam's possession. They never lost an opportunity 
to buck off a pack, to run four or five miles when 
hobbled, or to kick at us. At one place, when we 
turned them out to graze, they swam across a river 
and gave us " the horse laugh." We were two days 
in regaining possession of them. We taught one of 
those equines to be fast by anchoring him to a moun- 
tain. It was necessary to do that to get a pack on 
him. When the blind was raised, he very rudely and 
incautiously placed his two hind feet against my 
" dinner pail," just below the belt. 

We met Mr. Dunham at Dutch Flat and he ex- 
pressed sympathy for us because of our prospective 
exposure to dangerous rivers. He added that there 
was enough water between there and Valdez for him, 
and the distance was only twenty miles. Poor man ! 
He was drowned before he arrived, and in sight of 
the town. 

On the divide several bears were seen while we 
were scouting for a trail location, and one little black 
fellow insisted on boarding with us when we were 
absent or asleep. Once, when chased out of our 
camp by my little dog Pete, he became so attached 
to our pot of beans that he took it with him, and 
never even returned the pot. Mr. Leavell is my wit- 
ness to that remarkable statement. We concluded 
that in getting away, he had run his nose under the 
bail, and as he ran up a very steep hill, he did not 



154 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

lower his nose and let the pot drop, until he was too 
far away for us to find it. 

Once, when going to the creek to wash for break- 
fast, I met that dishonest Bruin. We were just 
twelve steps apart; I in shirt sleeves, bareheaded and 
unarmed, while he was wearing a beautiful coat and 
a grin that seemed to say: 

" I haven't your pot." 

At that minute he could have had a foot-race, for 
I felt very much like giving a free exhibition of my 
sprinting powers, but only refrained because of his 
apparent good nature. If I had run through camp 
with that bear a close second, Leavell might have 
upset the coffee pot in his eagerness to join the con- 
test. The bear slowly turned and crossed the creek, 
whereupon I became very brave, returned to camp, 
got my revolver and followed, only to fall into a foot 
of cold water, which chilled my enthusiasm. I re- 
turned to breakfast in a condition that seemed to 
amuse my companion very much. 

One night a Swede camped near us, and we cau- 
tioned him about the little bear that was liable to 
come right into his camp and help himself. When 
we awakened the man the next morning, he had a 
gun, an ax and a hatchet in bed with him. We 
laughingly told him that a club was all he needed to 
run that little black cub away, but he replied : 

" May-be-so his moder, and may-be-so his grand- 
moder come aroundt ! " 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 155 

All one day we crawled through the brush in the 
rain, and when we returned to camp we were tired, 
wet and hungry; then we discovered that Bruin had 
destroyed every edible thing in camp. He had scat- 
tered flour over an acre of ground, covered himself 
with it and glory, and us with despondency. Dorsey 
was a young man, only a boy out for experience, and 
as this was a larger chunk than is usually found, 
he sat down on a log to absorb it. While it rained, 
and his thoughts drifted back home, he exclaimed: 

" I have found fault with trivial things at home, 
such as the absence of my favorite pie from the 
dinner-table, but if ever I get back, hang me if I 
find fault with anything as long as I live ! " 

What a valuable lesson it is, for one to be placed 
where he has real cause to complain, and knows that 
it would not help matters. How ridiculous it ap- 
pears to one who has been inured to the hardships, 
privations and mishaps of the frontier, when re- 
turning to civilization, to see people worrying about 
houseflies or a little mud, or complaining of food 
that really is too good for them. It is natural for 
human beings to have trouble, and when they have 
none of their own, they try to borrow some. If that 
is impossible they will imagine they have trouble, 
anyway. 

I once camped in a lonely place, in a grove of tim- 
ber, and did not know there was another person on 
that river. The twilight was warm and balmy, just 



156 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the kind to suggest an evening's smoke. Suddenly 
I was surprised by the sweet strains of a piccolo that 
emanated apparently from the solitude. Investiga- 
tion disclosed Harry King, sitting on a log, near by, 
and filling the surrounding wilderness with melodious 
music. I shot him with a kodak. 

We met an unlucky crowd of prospectors who had 
lost their outfits in a destructive forest fire, and some 
others who were going out because of the scurvy. 
One tired man sat down, wiped the sweat from his 
brow and remarked: 

" That was a singular incident about a steamboat 
coming so far out on the Valdez mud flats that it is 
a total loss ! " 

"Where did you hear that? " we asked. 

" Mr. Garrett at the rapids told us about it." ' 

Garrett had been stationed at the rapids with in- 
structions to feed all needy prospectors on their way 
out. Everybody we met, after that, was overflow- 
ing with startling happenings, such as: that the 
American fleet at Manila had been captured by the 
natives swimming out to it ; that the cannery at Orca 
had been blown up; and that Captain Abercrombie 
had been taken out to be treated for insanity. When 
asked who gave them the news, they always replied : 

" Mr. Garrett, at the rapids." 

Their actions and looks seemed to say, " It makes 
no difference who gave us the information, when it is 
true." 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 157 

We arrived at the rapids in August, and held a 
private consultation with that original " Huck Finn/' 
from Missouri. When asked why he insisted on 
filling up the pilgrims with such doses of prevari- 
cation, his answer was: 

14 You see, I am sent in here to relieve suffering, 
and those fellows come to me suffering for news. 
They just beg for it, although they should know that 
I have been in here all summer, with no chance of 
procuring a good article of fresh news for myself; 
but they insist, so I am compelled to do the best I 
can, even if I do improvise a little. I tell you, it 
just keeps me awake at nights, trying to think of 
news to tell the next crowd that comes along." 

One fellow came along who played a practical 
joke on Garrett, and he succeeded so well that Gar- 
rett induced him to forego unwrapping his sleeping- 
bag, but to sleep in one of Garrett's bunks. When 
the man was asleep, Garrett unrolled the sleeping- 
bag and placed a four-pound rock in it; then rolled 
it up again. The next day the joker carried that 
extra weight for twenty miles, and when he unrolled 
his bed and found the rock, he wanted to return and 
kill Garrett, but he had no ammunition. 

I camped near the point where Schrader and Mil- 
ler were once slowly working their way through the 
alder brush, when they observed a bear looking down 
at them, from the mountain-side. They noticed the 
bear slap her cubs, then run towards them, but 



158 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

thought nothing of it until the bear rose up within 
a few feet of them, and said " Wough! " Miller re- 
plied by saying " Wough, Wough ! " and discharged 
his rifle in the bear's direction. The bear surprised 
Schrader by falling dead. Schrader declared that 
Miller did not raise his gun to his shoulder, but that 
after the bear was dead he fired several shots at the 
body and missed every time. 

It is not probable that it was such an accident as 
they pretend, for Miller is a person of quick de- 
cision, and just the kind of a man to kill a bear be- 
fore some men would have made up their minds what 
to do. 

Miller discovered the noted Miller gulch, about 
a year later, and fortune could not have bestowed her 
favors on a more deserving man. I will here state 
that my companion, Mr. Leavell, also struck it rich 
by locating a good placer claim, the following year. 
He returned home and married. James Garrett also 
found rich pay gravel, but he looked on his fortune 
as a practical joke that the devil or some one had 
played on him. Recently he lost his life in a bibulous 
effort to break even. 

It was the latter part of August before I could 
depart on the exploring trip into the Alaskan Range. 
It was entirely too late for me to be able to reach 
the headwaters of the Tanana, by any possibility if 
I had so desired, but I might reach the head of the 
Chistochina. I bade my companion farewell and 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 159 

crossed Quartz Creek divide, near where the fall 
before Jack Miller, Charley Simonstad, Joe Bell, 
Nelson, Jacobsen and Faber had been caught in a 
snow storm. They had found the carcass of a dead 
government mule which had wandered to that place, 
and they claim that the Thanksgiving dinner they 
enjoyed of mule meat will always be remembered. 

I descended to the Tonsina Lake, that nestled 
quietly between high mountains. Its surface was 
almost constantly disturbed by the lashing of the 
salmon, and the flips of the trout. The outlet was 
crossed by swimming our horses, and camp was 
made near some Indians. A few days before, Frank 
Lavigne had been drowned at that place. I camped 
the next night on the divide between this and Klutena 
Lake, where I caught a fine mess of trout from Twin 
Lakes. A solar observation indicated 6i° 45' N. 



CHAPTER XIII 

'An Indian never thinks of yesterday and consequently has 
no history. One reasoned thus: "Yesterday dead! To- 
morrow may-be-so Indian die! " 

There is a story current of a white man's adven- 
ture with some bears in that country. His camp was 
on one side of the river, and on the opposite shore 
was an Indian camp. Being without provisions, he 
desired very much to cross the river, but as the In- 
dian camp was back some distance from the water, 
and hidden among the trees, he could not signal to 
them his wants. He waited for two days, hoping 
that an Indian would come in sight, so that he could 
make him understand that he wanted a canoe brought 
over for him. 

In the afternoon two bears deliberately walked 
into his camp, and as they approached from behind, 
they were very near to him before he saw them. 
Immediately he plunged off the bank into the river, 
and apparently never looked back, but swam, then 
waded, then swam some more, and finally reached the 
opposite shore. The Indians received and fed him 
from the best that they possessed. Presently another 
white man came along, and after the half-drowned 
one had related his experience, the newcomer replied 
with astonishment : 

160 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 161 



"Why, man! You might have been drowned! " 

The Indian here inserted: 

" Drowned ! Ha-low ! He no drown ! He see 
too many bear ! He no drown ! " 

I met Mr. Wood and Mr. Rice at Copper Center 
on their return from the Yukon. Wood had been 
treed by a bear, and Rice complained that a pair of 
canvas leggins, which he had purchased at Valdez, 
had worn out the first time he had put them on. 
Wood claimed, however, that Rice had not taken 
them off while on the trip. 

A severe earthquake was felt while we were there, 
and an Indian said if it shook any more he would 
go to Knik and consult a priest about it. There also 
I met old Chief Stickman, and he told me how he 
had offered a bear skin, two marten skins and a dog 
for a red-headed white woman whom he had seen 
there the previous summer. Her husband had agreed 
to the trade, but when the Chief brought out the 
articles, the white man looked at his wife for some 
time, and then backed down. Poor Stickman! He 
said if he had only had another bear skin he could 
have procured the red-headed white woman he had 
coveted. He had two wives already, but that Indian 
was ambitious. He wanted a variety in color as well 
as in numbers. 

Mr. Date, whom I had engaged as assistant scout, 
overtook me at the Tazlina River. We were a day 
rafting our outfit over, and swimming the horses 



162 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

across that deep and rapid stream. After we had 
crossed we camped with a crowd of Gulkana In- 
dians. They were a happy lot, and sang and danced 
nearly all night. They explained that one of their 
guttural chants was a funeral dirge; another a mar- 
riage song, and another a religious melody or psalm. 
They said that seventy of their tribe had starved to 
death the previous winter. The stories that they told 
greatly amused them, and they made much over a 
star which they had not seen for a long time. Point- 
ing to the north star, they explained it thus: 

" He all time set down. He ha-low klatewah! " 
meaning that it was stationary. 

Our trip through the Copper River country was 
made up of crossing numerous rivers, swimming 
horses, climbing table-bluffs and wallowing through 
swamps. The September weather was delightful. 
The mosquitoes had gone, the sun shone brightly 
through the clear atmosphere and we were in the 
center of the most beautiful landscape imaginable. 
During the short Indian summer there appear pretty 
golden-hued patches among the green. The sere 
brown leaves dip and flit to the music of the soft 
autumn zephyrs. Down they come, fluttering from 
the birch, the cottonwood and the quaking asp. 

It is then that the magpie caws a laughing farewell 
to the northern summer and the red-winged black- 
bird gathers his wife and children from the swamps. 
They sing praises of their summer home, and grow 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 163 

eloquent upon the prospect of a southern journey. 
The pheasant cock, with ruffled neck and spreading 
tail, struts across the trail and disappears in the un- 
dergrowth. The spruce hen flutters as if going to 
fly, then hesitates and looks the traveler out of coun- 
tenance. The little red squirrel barks rather de- 
fiantly when you approach too near his granary of 
winter supplies. Above the timber, on the mountain- 
side, the ptarmigan fly in great flocks. It is then that 
we enjoy the clear, azure sky, cool nights, and warm, 
sunny days 

We left the Copper River near the mouth of the 
Sanford — as it was advisable to travel over unex- 
plored ground to gather information for the 
Copper River Exploring Expedition — and struck 
across the country for the headwaters of the Chisto- 
china River. The original name of this river is 
Cristochina (Holy tea water river). The word 
" Christ " was given to the Indians by the Russian 
missionaries; "to" is the Indian word for water; 
" chi " is another Russian word and is tea in Eng- 
lish; and "na" is the Indian word for river. All 
river names ending with " na " should be compound 
words such as Shiti-na (Copper River) and Tana-na 
(Trail River). Chiti-to means Copper-Water. 

We followed the signs that had been left here and 
there by the Indian, Gokona Charley and his family, 
as they had migrated that way to the mountains on 
their fall hunt. We traveled past muskrat-popu- 



164 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

lated lakes, and near one of those lakes I killed a 
coot duck which was flying overhead. My com- 
panion expressed surprise at that revolver shot, and 
I was just as much astonished myself, but it was dis- 
cretion to say less about it. A coot duck is a large 
black fellow that can be eaten if the coot is first 
boiled out of him ; but there would be very little duck 
left, after that was done. 

The Alaskan Range is Alaska's backbone, and in- 
cludes the highest mountain in North America — 
Mount McKinley — and it ends with the vertebra of 
the Wrangell group, including the mountains St. 
Elias and Logan, each about 20,000 feet high, and 
many others that are more than 16,000 feet above 
the sea-level. Mountain climbers may be assured, 
if they really enjoy scaling such heights, they will 
find in that region the monumental culmination of 
their desires; but the ordinary mortal can hardly 
contemplate such immense surroundings without ex- 
periencing a sense of weariness. 

We arrived at the foothills of the range, and, after 
scaring a moose from a pasture of high grass, our 
horses took possession for their night's feed. The 
salubrious climate that we had enjoyed, left us at 
Chisna Creek and we were in wintry weather. A 
few men had located placer claims there before the 
weather would prevent them from recrossing the 
Coast Range. I located a claim myself, in a snow- 
covered gully, and that locality proved to be such a 



Trailing' and Camping in Alaska 165 

poverty-stricken one that it was afterwards known as 
Powell's gulch. 

The bushy-headed Indian, known as Gokona Char- 
ley, came into our camp, and said that his family 
was then camped on the Slahna River. He declared 
that he could pan gravel with as good results as any 
experienced miner. We fed and sheltered him over 
night, and gave him ten pounds of flour because he 
had told us that his little boy was very sick. We 
learned the next year that when Charley returned to 
his camp he had found his wife wailing over the 
dead body of their child. 

Before leaving, he had insisted that I should locate 
a claim on a small gulch, about eight miles from the 
point where we were camped. He said I should 
have to go through a pass, that there was " hiyu " 
gold there, and that others would surely find it the 
next year. The poor fellow was trying to repay me 
for my hospitality. Believing that the pass he men- 
tioned might be of advantage to the military expedi- 
tion in running a trail through the Alaskan Range, 
and also that the Captain West discoveries were in 
that locality, I attempted to find the gulch he de- 
scribed. The winter had set in with a vengeance in 
those high mountains, and I had no shoes, my feet 
being wrapped in sacks. The outlook was very 
gloomy to us, as our chances of getting through the 
valley and across the three divides of the Coast 
Range, where there was no trail, were not very 



166 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

pleasant to consider, together with the fact that we 
were almost out of supplies. 

Just before the autumn day had closed I stood in 
the pass, after a weary day's march, and looked 
across to a white mountain-side and probably to- 
wards the long-sought locality. It would be impos- 
sible to go down into the deep canyon and climb out 
of it, for the snow was too deep to admit of such 
an undertaking; and besides, one would have neces- 
sarily to tramp all night to keep warm. The water 
was frozen, so no gravel could be washed. While I 
stood there, with the snowflakes whipping my face, 
they seemed to say: "Your life is at stake for the 
greed of gold! Is it worth while? " 

Somewhere over yonder, a mile or two away, and 
now covered from the sight of man, was the sought- 
for treasure of the wild, but the doors of Nature's 
vaults had been closed against me. My friends can 
testify that my credit always has been limited, and 
I know it always will be so, yet I confess that the real- 
ization I was weighing my life in the balance with 
the gold that is worshiped by fools, made my esti- 
mate of that filthy lucre gradually sink below par. 

As I slowly and wearily wended my way back, 
by the light of the snow, I reflected that if Apollo 
had been a prospector instead of a sheep-herder, 
and his scene of activity had been Alaska, he would 
have sung, no doubt, of the beauties of nature, be- 
cause he usually did, but that very often his refrain 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 167 

would have been varied by the favorite recitative 
of the country: " Please pass the beans." 

I have always thought that the love of money was 
base, and a bar against a higher life, yet I doggedly 
resolved to return the next year and continue my 
search. If I had been allowed to leave the coast a 
month or even ten days earlier, I should have had 
my choice of locations on Miller Gulch and Slate 
Creek, which have, at this writing, produced about 
two tons of gold. 

It is a consolation to know, however, that the 
locality was staked by more deserving men than some 
others who would have beaten Captain West and 
myself out of it, and who could not travel a straight 
trail unless there was an impassable barrier on either 
side. 

The snow continued to fall, and the next day we 
prepared to leave. The air was calm and every- 
thing was purely white, That is when the ptarmigan 
come down off the mountain and say laughingly: 

" I've come back! " 

They descend singly and in flocks. A flutter and 
a sail, a flip and a cackle, and there is a ptarmigan 
down, and laughing about it! You cannot see him 
because he is as white as the snow. If you had found 
him two or three weeks before, his color would have 
been brown, but the first snow has remained on the 
mountain where he has been, and now he is white. 
At this time of the year, on a few of them, may be 



168 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

noticed a dark-brown spot about the size of a silver 
dollar, but even that will be white in a few days. 

On our return I went out to kill a few of them 
to eat. One came down, not twenty steps away, and 
thinking I saw the brown spot, I fired, only to knock 
the snow off a rock. The bird was two feet to one 
side and had no brown spot. He fluttered up and 
came down again. They have a red ring around the 
eyes, and looking for that I approached until it was 
visible, and then I killed the bird. The snow is not 
nearly so white in the spring, and after it has lain 
on the ground all winter those birds are seen much 
more easily. It is difficult to distinguish a white ptar- 
migan on an October snow, even at the distance of 
twenty steps. 

They have fine feathers, a kind of hairy down, 
completely covering their feet, and their plumage 
changes color almost constantly. The small rock 
ptarmigan is very gentle, and often a hen will fight 
to protect her little chicks. They are frequently 
found, in summer, hovering over their broods in 
the rain. This presents a pretty picture. The chicks 
peep from their mother's feathers, while the hen is 
so gentle that you can almost stroke her back with 
your hand. My little dog Pete was trained to treat 
the hens and little chicks with respect. 

We left that camp on September 28, and the 
distance to the coast, over the route we were com- 
pelled to travel, without a trail, was about three 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 169 

hundred miles. The white Coast Range, with its 
three divides to cross, looked very forbidding and 
hopeless to us, who were almost out of food, and 
with feet wrapped in sacks. We fed all of our flour 
to the horses to enable them to get down to the val- 
ley, where they could live. So long as they had suffi- 
cient strength to carry our blankets, we felt secure, 
for we were too weak to carry them ourselves. We 
managed to kill a spruce hen or a pheasant almost 
every day, but game was very scarce at that time 
along the river. 

If the weather had been delightful when we came 
up, it was very different now, for the cold north 
winds blew down the Copper River valley and 
through the naked tree tops. With a suggestive 
whistle, and apparently irresistible force, but with 
futile effect, they hurled themselves against those 
great natural battlements, the Wrangell group. The 
atmosphere was so clear, it was reasonable to be- 
lieve that those mountains could be seen at a dis- 
tance of one hundred and fifty miles. Mt. Wrangell 
sent up a steady spiral of smoke and steam that 
drifted away as clouds towards the Pacific. 

When we were sitting by our campfire, one even- 
ing, with nothing to eat, two Indians approached 
us and asked if we had " muck-muck " (food)? 
Upon receiving a negative answer, they counted the 
number of nights that they should be away from 
their winter camp, and then " pot-latched " (gave) 



170 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

us two dried salmon. These salmon are cured with- 
out salt, and white men can eat the half-rotten fish 
only when nearly starved; therefore, our condition 
may be inferred, from the fact that we ate and en- 
joyed those fish. 

At one camp we supped on snowballs, and break- 
fasted on wind-pudding and ice-water. When we 
arrived at Copper Center, we had eaten but one 
pheasant during the previous thirty-six hours. We 
found Dick Wortham there, running a trading-post 
for Mr. Holman, for the purpose of securing furs 
from the Indians. He had laid in a supply of moose 
meat for the winter, and we sat down to the table 
and ordered the best he had. He placed a large pot 
of boiled meat before us and said: 

" Boys, I put fourteen pounds of moose meat in 
that pot! " 

We ate, and then rested, and began to eat again, 
and he exclaimed: 

" Boys, I put fourteen pounds of moose meat in 
that pot ! " 

Before retiring, we attacked that pot again and 
succeeded in eating all that there was, so Dick set- 
tled back once more, and exclaimed: 

" Boys, I put fourteen pounds of moose meat in 
that pot ! " 

He charged us nine dollars for that meat and 
other sundries, and we had to raise the price of our 
worthless placer locations a few thousands to pay 



Trailing and Camping in ^ Alaska 171 

the bill. I met Dick, nearly a year after that inci- 
dent, and in answer to my salutation he exclaimed: 

" Honest to God, I put fourteen pounds of moose 
meat in that pot ! " 

A few Indians visited that post, from a near-by vil- 
lage, and among them was a little girl with the pretty 
name of Natalia. I inquired diligently why they 
had named the child " Natalia," but no one seemed 
to know ; and it was a striking illustration of their 
unconscious absorption of influence from far-away 
Russian, for Natalia was the name of the mother of 
Peter the Great, Russia's most practical ruler. 

From Copper Center it was a battle with the ele- 
ments. Our food was insufficient and we had no trail 
to follow. We met Mr. Holman and his assistants, 
who were burdened with the first mail from Valdez 
to the Yukon, and he richly deserves the credit of 
delivering it under the conditions that then existed. 

Our warm and dry sleeping-bags enabled us to 
sleep comfortably beneath two feet of snow, on the 
Grayling Creek divide, while the cold north wind 
blew, and the poor horses pawed the grass on the 
steep hillsides. One horse refused to move the next 
morning. I mercifully sent a bullet to his brain, and 
he dropped beside our trail. We crossed and de- 
scended to the edge of timber and camped on frozen 
ground. 

We camped the next night in a deep valley that 
was brimful of death-like stillness, and surrounded 



172 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

by gold and silver crimsoned peaks that had climbed 
heavenward to bask in the light of other planets. 
About one o'clock at night I was looking on one of 
the prettiest sights of a lifetime. We were in the 
shade of a deep canyon, but the full moon shone on 
the tops of the surrounding mountains, thousands of 
feet above us and miles away; and those refulgent 
rays lighted up the canyons and deep-cut gorges so 
plainly that we could see the great precipices and 
glaciers, away up where human feet never could 
tread. That color overspread everything with a rich 
golden glow, unimaginable to those who never have 
viewed a northern winter's moonlight. For one 
hour I had been absorbed in speechless wonder, when 
my companion called out: 

" Say, you sleepy-head, wake up and look at the 
grandest scene that Nature ever painted! I have 
been staring at it for an hour! " 

There ! Both of us had been gazing on the scene 
and neither of us had said a word — and with empty 
stomachs, too! True, Alaska's hardships are se- 
vere, but she often repays one with that which 
" filthy lucre" cannot buy. Ambidextrous Alaska! 
She affectionately strokes your brow with one hand 
and wrathfully cuffs you with the other! She woos 
you with a smile and drives you away with a frown. 

iWe trudged wearily into U. S. Station No. 3, 
where we were fed. As the wind was blowing fiercely 
across Thompson Pass, we deferred the crossing until 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 173 

night. We then made the attempt, but the horse, 
" Dynamite Bob," lost his buck and life up there. 
Although on the summit, he refused to move farther, 
and so we left him and sought shelter in the lee of a 
large rock on the Coast side of the mountain. The 
next morning I returned far enough to see his feet 
sticking out of the drifting snow. 

I will frankly admit now that I should rather part 
with my dollar watch than undergo the hardships of 
such another trip. The next morning we slowly de- 
scended into the timbered lowlands, out of the wind, 
and tried to realize that we had but twenty miles 
to trudge to the little town at the end of the land- 
locked bay. Ah, how much that destination meant 
to us. It meant bacon and good old beans, butter 
and bread and possibly beefsteak! Our ambitious 
spirits gradually left our ankles and began ascend- 
ing towards our knees, as we prefigured the luxury 
of reading letters from home while enjoying com- 
fortable shelter from the cold, bitter storms. 

When we did weakly walk into Valdez, we were 
long-haired, long-whiskered, hatless, shoeless and 
horseless, and represented the remnant of the outfit 
that went exploring in the Alaskan Range, in the 
fall of 1899. 



CHAPTER XIV 

The boy described in this chapter was at the latter end of 
the firecracker stage of life, possibly twelve years old. 

In 1898 every locality north of the 45th parallel 
was referred to as " the Klondike," although the 
Klondike was only a small river in the Northwest 
Territory. If you were going north your friends 
would insist that your were going to the Klondike, 
anyway, and by referring to you as a Klondiker they 
would coerce you into submission. 

In 1900, it was Nome, Nome; no place like Nome. 
There were enough persons going to Nome to stake 
off a territory as large as New England, and all ex- 
pected to secure desirable locations. If you suc- 
ceeded in convincing others that you were going 
north and not to Nome, you also succeeded in im- 
pressing them with the belief that you were an imbe- 
cile. Prospectors went in pairs, one to hold the sack 
while the other shoveled gold into it. Hardships, 
the work of pulling sleds, would be unknown; just 
landing on the beach and shoveling up the gold! 
Where there was one gold-saving machine sold in 
1898, dozens of them were sold in 1900. 

One man refused to buy a machine, and in that 
respect he was a solitaire; but he further distin- 

174 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 175 

guished himself additionally by devising a scheme 
that would readily return him a fortune. He found 
that he could ship Nome sand down to Seattle as 
ballast; so he decided to do that, and wash it out 
in the winter at his leisure, or sell it. 

Good-looking restaurant girls asked to be taken to 
Nome, and others volunteered the information that 
they could wait on tables, wash dishes, and almost 
anything else if only allowed to go to Nome. It is 
probable that a restaurant man could have secured 
a hundred women on those conditions. 

A lone boy quietly boarded a ship and was living 
there so sumptuously that he was quite important. 
Why not? Was he not going to Nome to make his 
fortune? The steamer did not land at the Sitka 
wharf, but anchored out in the stream. The Cap- 
tain managed nevertheless to put that boy on land. 
Later he went on shore himself, and there met the 
penniless boy from Alameda. The little fellow asked 
him if he did not think it heartless and cruel to put 
a boy off on such an island without a penny in his 
pockets to get something to eat. 

The humane Captain's feelings were touched, as 
well as his pocket, and he gave the boy a dollar, re- 
questing him to invest it in such a manner that he 
might, some day, hear what he had done with it. 
The boy solemnly promised and kept his word. 

This is what he did with it: he gave half of the 
dollar to an Indian to row him 'out to the steamer 



176 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

just as it was leaving. There he succeeded in climb- 
ing up the stern of the vessel and hanging like a 
spider from his web to a chance rope that happened 
to be there, while the Indian and his canoe were left 
in the boiling wake. In accordance with the good 
luck that always attends such daring boys, a pas- 
senger happened to look over the stern of the 
steamer and, seeing the boy, pulled him up on deck. 
He remained unobserved until well out at sea, then 
he went around and humiliated the Captain — in 
fact, knocked him speechless by lifting his cap in 
salutation. 

The Captain looked at the boy, then rubbed his 
eyes and looked at him again. He said to himself, 
" Is it possible! Didn't I leave that boy at Sitka? 
And gave him a dollar at the last minute? It's the 
same boy, same freckles, same sunburn, same cap 
and the same coat with the hole in the elbow ! " 

The boy continued to humiliate the Captain by 
strutting past him again and again. He seemed to 
enjoy the Captain's embarrassment. Finally the 
Captain could no longer resist, so he called to the 
boy and they held a private conversation. The 
Captain felt as though he were talking to the presi- 
dent of the company, but he wanted to know several 
things. A boy who could so quietly board his ship 
was evidently developing traits of character that 
would, if cultivated, land him in the penitentiary — 



Trailing and Vamping in Alaska 17 1 

or make a capitalist of him. The boy told of how 
he had left home, and how he had helped his mother 
wash the dishes the morning he stole away. He 
said: 

" I told mother I was going to Nome, but she 
only laughed. She doesn't quite know me, yet. We 
haven't been acquainted long enough. I always 
mean what I say. I didn't have a cent of money — 
didn't have any when I landed at Sitka, for that mat- 
ter." 

There again he was tantalizing the Captain. 

" What are you going to do?" asked the Cap- 
tain. 

" Go to Nome." 

" But this boat doesn't go there." 

" I will." 

" I'll put you off at Valdez, and then what will 
you do? " 

" Go to Nome." 

" Boats running westward from Valdez only go 
to Dutch Harbor, so what will you do there? " 

" Go to Nome." 

" What shall I tell your mother when I return to 
California? that you " 

" Went to Nome." 

" See here, what did you do with the dollar that 
I gave you? " 

" I spent half of it." 



178 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

"How?" 

11 1 gave it to an Indian to bring me out to the 

ship." 

"What! Persuaded the Captain to loan you 
money to get back on his boat? " 

" Yes, and I'll go to Nome on the other half." 

" And that is just what I'll tell your mother — 
that you went to Nome ! Now go and see that you 
make yourself useful on board this ship." 

It would be interesting to know what finally did 
become of that Nome-bound boy. 

I came up from Sitka that spring, on the steamer 
Bertha, on which was a small man who had a large 
contract on his hands. He was going north to bring 
out some full-grown Kadiak grizzlies, sound in both 
body and mind. He asked me what kind of bait 
to use for his traps, and I suggested Siwashes, as 
I had heard they were particularly fond of those 
Indians. Because that fellow bragged about not 
being seasick, we dubbed him " The Sailor," but he 
threw up his reputation and other things when we 
struck a storm. 

We were towing a little schooner which was bound 
for Latua Bay. All night long we wallowed in the 
troughs of the sea, and daylight surprised us by 
showing us the schooner still hanging to our line. 
When we arrived opposite Latua, the wind was not 
right for the schooner to enter, so the crew decided 
to try and hold on to our boat until we arrived at 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 179 

Yakutat. Latua Bay is landlocked and is connected 
with the ocean by a very narrow strait through 
which the tide rushes with great velocity. It was 
discovered in 1786, by the French navigator, Pe- 
rouse, who lost several members of his crew while 
sounding the dangerous entrance. 

The little boat followed at the end of a long 
line, while we were driven into mountains of water 
by a southern gale. At times, it was out of our sight 
while great waves rolled between, and at others it 
was on the crest of a ridge while we were on another, 
with that long line stretching across a watery can- 
yon between us. Suddenly the rope parted and 
we left the schooner, watching it become smaller 
in the distance. Soon it was lost to view and to this 
world. It was reported later that the body of one of 
the sailors had been found on a beach nearly op- 
posite where we had last seen them. 

We were rocked up and down, to and fro, for 
fifty-two hours in a stormy sea. When our maternal 
ancestors rocked their babies in cradles until they 
were so sick that they vomited and too sick to cry, 
their care-takers wiped their little mouths, saying that 
it was a sign of healthy children and proceeded to 
sicken them some more. It is probable that a few 
of those who were most thoroughly rocked in child- 
hood grew up to be sailors, and at some period of 
their lives the others wanted to be. 

We came by way of Yakutat, where was a mis- 



180 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

sion, a store and a postoffice. The Indians destroyed 
that mission so " there was not one log left upon 
another." The Indians came out to our vessel in 
canoes. They tied the first canoe to the steamer's 
ladder with a fishline, then others were tied to that 
one, and then to the others, until there was an acre 
of canoes jammed together, with Indians little and 
big, old and young, well dressed and otherwise, 
scrambling on board. They swarmed everywhere, 
even into our staterooms that were unlocked. 

The best-looking squaws sold trinkets for the 
whole tribe. They would cooingly attempt to talk 
until we bought something, and then not notice us 
afterwards, — they were sophisticated to that extent. 
It reminded us of their civilized sisters at church 
fairs. 

The whistle blew half an hour before leaving, and 
they immediately scrambled back into their canoes 
and raced to shore, while their dogs on land howled 
with pain or something. 

When we landed at Valdez a man approached 
me and asked if I were a moose. I replied that I 
was a caribou. I told an acquaintance, who had win- 
tered there, of the circumstance, and solicited his 
aid in placing the interrogator where he could do 
no harm, but this friend informed me that in my 
absence the old-timers had organized a society called 
the Alaska Moose. Now, as I had joined the Sons 
of Rest at Juneau, the Never Sweats at Sitka, and 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 181 

the H. A. Society at Valdez, I felt that I had reached 
the limit of fraternal dignities. 

I attended a church at Valdez, and listened to a 
moccasined musician pump modern music from a 
poor old asthmatic organ. He seemed to get more 
action out of his feet than with his hands, but as it 
was conceded that he was skilled in music we lis- 
tened with admiration. He went after the poor de- 
fenseless organ as if he were determined to cause 
an earthquake, and really I feared that he would 
succeed. That music wept, sighed and moaned, then 
it cursed, raved and roared, while I held on to my 
nerves with difficulty and groaned. The audience 
was happy, not because it was music, but because it 
was difficult to do that. When he stopped to rest, 
I imagined that I could hear that organ panting. 

I had seen a young man in Sitka, a mere amateur 
in music, take a cat and, by holding its paws so that 
it was defenseless, lay it on a table; then seizing its 
ear in his mouth, and with his other hand twisting 
its tail, he had in such a manner ground out just as 
good music, according to my judgment, as this pro- 
fessional had hydraulicked through that organ. 

If there is a nerve extending from the medulla 
oblongata to the cortex of my skull, or that convolu- 
tion of brain matter which indicates music, it must 
have been strained or bent at some time or other. 
I possess probably as much vocal music as a mud 
turtle, yet I enjoy emotional music, such as may be 



182 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

produced by a senorita playing on a guitar, if she be 
passably good-looking; or a solo in a mix-up with 
Annie Laurie; but I draw the line on those uncon- 
trollable medleys which pick you up with a sluice 
fork, break your neck with a Jiu-jitsu twist, or jab 
you in the butt of the ear with a sudden stop, and 
then throw down the lines and allow the team to run 
over the bluff. If I were called in to tune a piano, 
I probably would use a stick of dynamite. 

Like all frontier towns, many of the inhabitants 
of Valdez were known only by the " nick-names " 
which had become attached to them in some unknown 
manner. I was approached by a soldier who was 
enjoying a respite from Fort Liscum, and he in- 
quired for the " Poor Man." I informed him that 
he was addressing the object of his search, but he 
refused to accept my view of the case, and explained 
that the " Poor Man " was a fellow who had once 
given a dance to procure sufficient money to furnish 
his house. The scheme had paid so handsomely 
that he had continued the dances twice a week for the 
rest of the winter, earning thereby the title of the 
" Poor Man." 

An important day's doings at Valdez might have 
been recorded thus : " * Oklahoma Bill ' told ' Shorty 
the Kid ' that he had bought two dozen marten skins 
of ' McKinley George ' for a dollar each, but when 
he had attempted to sell them to ' Cold and Greasy/ 
he had been informed that they were muskrat skins, 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 183 

worth a nickel apiece ; and that ' Dad,' ' Alkali Ike ' 
and ' Frenchy ' had also declared them to be musk- 
rat skins. ' Lucky Bill ' had bought a bear skin 
from ' Bear Brown ' ; and ' Cockney Jim ' had baked 
pies that even ' Alganik Bill ' couldn't eat. * Stag- 
hound Bill ' had sold his dog-team to ' Big Rosa ' ; 
and ' Slop Jake ' was sent to the penitentiary for 
shooting at and missing a man. ' Scottie ' had abused 
4 Dynamite Dan ' for going down the bay in * Fer- 
tilizer Louis's ' sloop ; and ' Bald-headed Chris ' had 
taken his squaw with him, because he had thought 
' Red-headed Chris ' was falling in love with her. 
' Tenas Rosa ' had drawn a sketch of ' Buck Hoyt ' ; 
and ' Dog-faced Joe ' had called ' Windy Jim ' and 
' Joe Joe ' contemptible perplexities for making re- 
marks about * Copper River Red's ' long hair. 
1 Whiskey Jim ' had been blown up in a mine, and 
1 Slow, Water Willie ' alias ' Swift Water Bill ' was 
expected back from Fairbanks." Those were famil- 
iar names in Valdez. 

Charley and Jack, two young Copper River In- 
dians, had expressed a desire to come out to the 
coast and see the many astonishing sights that had 
been described to them by the white men. Older 
Indians cautioned them, fearing that the white sol- 
diers would kill them, but upon being assured that 
there was no danger, they made the venture. They 
never had seen a cow or a hog, a wagon or a house, 
or even a white squaw. They called the beef-cattle 



184 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



the " white man's caribou," and the mules, his 
" moose." Their first clay's amusement was found 
in looking at those unfamiliar sights, and what a 
circus day it was to those children of the forest! 

Charley retired to a bunk that had been assigned 
him when night came, as his tired brain needed rest; 
but Jack wandered to a social hall where a dance 
was being conducted. The wonderful sight of hand- 
somely dressed women, gracefully swinging in the 
waltz, or dancing a two-step to the strains of the 
white man's music, caused him to exclaim: 

" Charley must see the spirit dance of the white 
men and white squaws! " So away he ran for the 
bunk-house, and rushing up to the bedside of his 
companion, he began spitting out mouthfuls of In- 
dian jargon, while he pulled and hauled at Charley. 
Being thus rudely awakened, and in his half-dazed 
condition, Charley readily partook of Jack's excite- 
ment. With one grand sweep, he threw his blan- 
ket covering across the room, and, dressed only in 
a very short shirt, made a wild break for the great 
" Council House." He had entirely forgotten his 
newly acquired clothing, and, in his excitement, he 
was not content to hesitate or merely thrust his bushy 
head through the doorway of the dance hall, but 
rushed right in, despite his nude condition, and sat 
down on a vacant seat. Possibly he might have been 
persuaded to retire unnoticed, if the musician had 
possessed sufficient control, but when he espied His 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 185 

Naked Highness — the Indian — the violinist lost a 
note, then two, then three, and finally dropped his 
fiddle and roared with laughter. 

Charley became disgusted because of the attention 
paid to him, and retired to the bunk-house, where it 
was explained to him that while a certain degree of 
nudity was proper for ladies, it was customary for 
men to enter a ballroom with a full-dress suit and 
other articles of apparel which evidently he did not 
possess. 

The musician attempted to continue the same piece 
of music but it was a failure. When he arrived at 
the note he had been playing when he had discovered 
the nude Indian, he broke down. He says that to this 
day he never has been able to get over that note. 

A few days were spent waiting for orders, but 
the time passed in the expectant day-dreaming of 
those unexplored wilds; of the game, flowers and 
wild berries that abound. In August and September, 
one often finds acres of wild currants, blueberries 
and salmon berries. The salmon or molina berry 
is most plentiful near the coast, where it grows ex- 
tremely large. They are of two kinds — yellow and 
black. They grow also both the low and high-bush 
cranberry. 



CHAPTER XV 

/ told an Indian boy that President Roosevelt was an 
expert hunter j and he replied: " Bring White Chief to 
Copper River and me show him how to snare rabbits'* 

I started in 1900 with one companion on a trip 
for the U. S. Copper River Exploring Expedition, 
and we were joined along the route by Dave Rhodes, 
who is a noted Yellowstone Park guide, August 
Chisholm, from California, William Soule, from 
Boston, and Ed. Dickey, from Nevada. 

Mr. Dickey had been a prospector in about all 
the mining districts of the west, and he had so ac- 
customed himself to adversity that he could fatten 
on it. He probably was the best-humored man in 
Alaska at that time. He led a foolish horse that, 
like some men, would get excited, and as he plunged 
in the mire Dickey would remonstrate, reason and 
plead with the animal to behave. Once the horse 
got the better of his instructor by dragging Dickey 
through a stretch of muddy water, but he did not 
complain. ■ He just stroked the horse's neck and said: 

" Baldy, you will compel me to speak harshly to 
you, and possibly use profane language, if you don't 
reform your ways! " 

In one place I was compelled to turn my horse 

186 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 187 

loose, while we both plunged separately through the 
mire. After repeated plunges and rests, we reached 
solid footing. I remained near by to see if Dickey 
would not utter just one profane word to relieve his 
mind and my nerves; because his quiet behavior was 
exasperating. The circumstances justified profanity 
of the very best quality, and Dickey, it appeared to 
me, was neglecting his privilege. Millions of mos- 
quitoes, all day, had done what they could to bring 
out his latent resources, but in vain. This last swamp, 
mud-wax or tapioca pudding, would surely awaken 
him to his duty. He succeeded in stopping his 
charger at the very edge of the mire and remarked : 

" Baldy, I'm afraid you'll cause me to speak 
harshly to you ! " 

Dickey then cautiously approached until he was 
bogged down, and Baldy plunged over him; but as 
he did so, he knocked off Dickey's hat, and with his 
hind foot shoved it three feet beneath the surface. 
The horse plunged and rested, alternately, until 
he had gained terra firma. Dickey turned red 
in the face, while pulling one leg at a time from 
the mire. He crawled over to the place where he 
had seen his hat last, and running his arm down until 
he spat out dirty water, extracted the hat and stood 
up in a commanding attitude. Then I began to feel 
proud of him, for evidently he was going to say 
something, and I hoped it would do justice to him- 
self and the occasion. Very likely the air around 



188 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

would be of a bluish cast while Dickey made a record 
for himself. The swamp needed it, the horse needed 
it, and I, myself, needed a liberal amount, for not 
telling him to do some swearing before he entered 
the bottomless place. Now, it was going to come ! 
Dickey looked at nothing but shaky swamp for miles 
around him, and then burst forth: 

" Say, I've a notion to take up a ranch, right 
here!" 

There I was — unarmed, but Dickey never will be 
forgiven for his calm behavior on that occasion. 
Alaska is a hard place on a man's religion, but surely 
it was unprepared to receive a man who couldn't 
swear at all. Mr. Dickey possessed other peculiar- 
ities, as the following incident goes to show : 

An Irishman was left in charge of a station with 
instructions not to feed travelers or horses. Dickey 
rode up and applied for accommodations, because 
it was late at night and storming, and he could go 
no further. The Irishman said: 

11 Och, ye would be afther sthayin' all night, 
would ye? I've instruchtions to kape no wan, and 
so ye better be goin'." 

Dickey hesitated. 

" Ye can't be sthoppin' here, do ye understhand! " 

Dickey rode under the shed, and tied his horse 
there, out of the wind. The Irishman threw some 
hay to his own horse, but none to Dickey's, although 
that was not necessary, for Dickey did that himself. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 189 

The Irishman remonstrated, but Dickey reasoned 
that the horse should eat something while he rested. 
Then Dickey followed the Irishman into the house 
and seated himself by the fire. 

" There'll be none av the loikes av ye sthop- 
pin' here while I have suprame authority to prevint 
it!" 

" That's all right," nonchalantly replied Dickey, 
" I'll warm myself by the fire a little, as it's very 
cold outside." 

The Irishman sat down by the fire for twenty 
minutes, expecting Dickey to go, but he did not; 
then he went into the kitchen. Dickey heard dishes 
rattling in there, so he entered and discovered the 
Irishman quietly eating his supper. 

Dickey bravely procured implements from the 
cupboard and deliberately sat down to eat. The 
Irishman was too astonished to talk, and after sup- 
per Dickey returned to enjoy his comfort by the fire. 
Presently, the Irishman came in and sat down for 
his evening smoke, but during the half-hour that 
passed he spoke not a word. Finally he walked back 
to his bed and retired for the night, still wondering 
when his strange visitor would depart. 

Dickey coolly walked over to the bedside, re- 
marked that there appeared to be room enough for 
two, dropped off his trousers and crawled in beside 
his host. Again the Irishman lost his speech, caused 
by a swelling that extended over his entire body and 



190 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

paralyzed his vocal chords. When he recovered 
he said: 

" By the howly Saint Patrick! Oi niver saw the 
loiks of ye! Mon, the bed is yours! The whole 
station and the harse belongs to ye ! Take all av it, 
for I've nothin' to say; but sure now, if ye plase, 
just inform me whin me sarvices are not naded! " 

My companion and I reluctantly parted company 
with the others at Copper Center, and when we ar- 
rived at the banks of the Tazlina River we found 
it a raging torrent. We rafted our outfit across, 
but the horses refused to enter the cold water, and I 
was compelled to ride one ahead while my companion 
drove the others in. It was a hard, long swim, and 
we drifted far down the stream, but finally gained 
the other shore. 

We remained two days in camp at the mouth of 
the Gokona River, because of the excessive heat. 
When the weather is warm in Alaska, the humidity 
in the atmosphere is most enervating, yet one can 
have plenty of cold water to drink, and butter, if 
kept in the shade, retains its solidity. In that respect, 
it is different from the warm weather of the southern 
deserts, for there, the prospector carries butter in a 
bottle. The only relief for a thermometer's raging 
fever, down on the desert, is to apply wet cloths along 
its backbone. It was at the Gokona River camp that 
my companion was thrown beneath a vicious horse, 
by the breaking of a latigo. I held the horse by the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 191 

bit while he kicked wickedly at his rider's head, 
barely missing it, and while the man's foot clung to 
the stirrup in such a manner that he was being 
dragged to the ground. I called to him to lie low, 
and he replied: 

" O, I'll never let another good thing pass by me, 
as long as I live! " 

Again the horse's shoe barely missed his head, and 
he said: 

" If I ever get out of this, won't I have a time? " 

When he did get loose, he stood up and shouted: 

" Gee whiz ! You bet I'm going to have all the 
good things that come my way the rest of my life ! 
Golly, what a time I'm going to have ! " 

There were about forty Indians near there, who 
were engaged in drying salmon for winter use. 
Among them were the two Gulkana Indians who had 
divided their salmon with Date and myself the fall 
before. Now had come the time to pay that debt, 
so I measured each one of them twenty cups of flour. 
They were pleased and repeated " Chinan " (thanks) 
and said I was a " hiyu good man." 

My companion delighted in deceiving the Indians 
by playing jokes on them. He performed the trick 
of carelessly lighting a match and placing it in his 
trousers pocket for a moment, then taking it out 
and lighting his pipe with it. One of my Indian 
friends wanted to try the same trick, but I cautioned 
him. Another Indian stepped up and did light a 



192 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

match, placing it in his pocket ; whereupon he jumped 
high in the air and made a few remarks that seemed 
to amuse the others very much. 

My companion allowed a large Indian to beat him 
at running and jumping, and then he ran a few steps 
and turned a handspring. The Indian had never 
seen that done before, but bravely took off his hat 
and attempted it. I was reading at the time, when 
my attention was attracted by a noise that sounded 
as if a log had fallen to the ground. Looking up, 
I saw the Indian lying flat on his back, with his 
mouth open. 

It was demonstrated to the Indians that one could 
hold a coffee-pot filled with boiling water, on the 
flat of his hand. This can be done, if the pot be 
immediately released as soon as it stops boiling. As 
long as it boils, it takes cold air to the bottom. In 
consequence of one Indian attempting to perform 
that trick, there was some tall kicking, a scattering 
of boiling water, and also some very forcible re- 
marks. I really feared that companion was going 
to get us into trouble. 

The Indians requested us to take an Indian boy 
along as far as the Chistochina River, and we did 
so. He amused himself by killing ducks and musk- 
rats in the small lakes that bordered the trail, and 
my dog Pete surprised him by bringing his game 
out of the water. Indian dogs or tame coyotes 
never do that. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 193 

Instead of making the attempt to get back to the 
head of the Chistochina on the snow, I had remained 
and accepted a position from the government to 
continue exploring in the Alaskan Range. By so 
mismanaging, I arrived at the mouth of Slate Creek 
just as others had finished staking it out. After 
looking over the ground, I decided that above Miller 
Gulch, a tributary of Slate Creek, was where Captain 
West had made his discovery. That is the exact 
place I had been attempting to reach the year before. 

We cached most of our provisions in trees, near 
Lake Mancomen (beaver) and turned westward to 
explore for a pass from the north side of the Cop- 
per River valley to the Tanana. When in one 
high pass, we experienced an electric storm of an un- 
usual kind. We were in the midst of a summer cloud 
at an altitude of 5000 feet. The lightning did not 
strike, but seemed to break all around us. The thun- 
der did not clap, but ran around on a level, and 
broke, ripped and tore along the mountain-side, 
while electricity caused the manes of our horses to 
look frowzy and our finger-tips to ache. It would 
not have been surprising had our eyebrows been 
scorched. The storm appeared to be busily engaged 
in tearing up this vaporous coverlid, by shooting a 
few bolts lengthwise and then ripping them 
crosswise. I never shall forget that ripping, split- 
ting and breaking atmosphere. If Franklin had been 
in such a place, he would have been surprised at the 



J 94 Trailing and Camping in "Alaska 

short string needed for his kite. This phenomenal 
treat was only a few minutes in duration, but was 
worth the money. 

Owing to the warm weather, and the consequent 
high water that boiled from beneath the Gokona 
glacier, we were unable to cross that river until 
July 21. On our side of the river was as luxuriant 
bunch-grass as could be found in any country, and as 
beautifully colored flowers as one could desire to 
look upon; while not two hundred yards from us 
was the glacier that extended for miles back among 
the mountains. We saw a bear eating willow buds 
on the moraine of that glacier. 

We crossed the glacier stream, and ascended high 
rolling hills at the foot of the mountain range. From 
there, we looked down on the glacier and over the 
Copper River valley. It appeared to have been once 
an inland sea. The whole country around must have 
been uplifted and now streams were cross-cutting old 
channels where the rivers had been. Although we 
were fifteen miles away from timber and iooo feet 
above it, we found a log of ebonized wood that had 
just been washed from a high gravelly bank. It 
had been burned brown by the smothered heat of 
time and had a charred surface on one side, with 
spruce bark on the other. 

I cut that log in two pieces, with the intention of 
returning this same way and packing one of them 
out to the coast, but failed to come by that route. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 195 

Probably that log will be found at some future time 
with its chips and the cutting, and great comment 
will then be made upon the edged tools that evidently 
were used at some prehistoric time. I fancy that 
the sensational article thus written would favorably 
compare with the average canards that occasionally 
appear in the modern Sunday papers. 

The many extinct craters in Alaska are an evi- 
dence of the great volcanic activity which existed 
there in ancient times. The then warm climate was 
made possible by the thinness of the earth's crust, 
but the heat escaped through these craters; the crust 
thickened, and possibly the sudden cooling caused 
great precipitation; this failed to melt in summer, 
and consequently congealed into ice. So followed the 
glacier period. That was the time when Alaska really 
was the ice-bound region which popular repute sup- 
poses it to be at this day. Now, the climate again 
is becoming warmer from the same old cause — in- 
ternal heat. Springs that come from the ground in 
that part of Alaska do not freeze in winter. Rivers 
overflow and glaciers are rapidly receding, as the 
many old moraines indicate. 

These great changes in the north are compara- 
tively of recent date, only a few thousand years ago, 
— yesterday, to a geologist; for the rocks are still 
black from the effects of volcanic fires, and here is 
the charred wood. 

Many times has this old planet been darkened 



196 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

by volcanic ashes and smoke. In B. C. 45 the sun 
shone pale on southern Europe for a whole year. 
A. D. 536 little sunlight was seen for a whole year 
and two months (Georgius Dynast, p. 94). 

In A. D. 567, " In the second year of the reign 
of Justinian II., there appeared a flame of fire in 
the heavens near the north pole, and remained there 
for a whole year; darkness was cast over the world 
from 3 o'clock till night, so that nothing could be 
seen; and something resembling dust and ashes fell 
down from the sky." (Abu'l Farag, p. 95.) 

The history of Portugal claims that that country 
was without sunlight for two months in A. D. 934. 

In A. D. 1547 the sun appeared in some parts 
of the planet for three days as if suffused with blood. 
On May 19, 1780, the settled portions of North 
America experienced darkness from 10:30 A. M. 
until midnight. The sea and the rivers were covered 
to the depth of four inches with a black, sooty scum. 
These conditions were surely caused, not by other 
planets, as we are too ready to assume, but by vol- 
canic convulsions of this old earth of ours. From 
the standpoint of a lay mind it appears to me that 
meteors might have the same origin; that is, they 
might be shooting from our great Polar volcanic 
guns, and according to the natural law that every- 
thing which goes up must come down, they return 
to earth. We are not rubbing noses with other 
planets, and attracting from them pieces of their 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 197 

wearing apparel; and if we were attracting meteors 
from other planets, the law of the Divine Purpose 
would be upset and we should be attracting the 
planets themselves. I do not know this, but I do 
know that scientists advance by way of a whole cata- 
logue of mistakes — at least, such is history ! 

Then, too, that other theory that appears to me 
to be an axiom, concerning the rotation of the earth. 
We are confronted by the fact that if water be poured 
on a grindstone, or a sphere, while that sphere is 
being turned eastward, the centrifugal force will 
cause the water to travel westward. It appears to 
me not only reasonable but an axiomatic fact that 
the same law must exist throughout all creation. If 
so, it is a reasonable answer for the question : Why 
are the fisheries washing away on the Atlantic coast 
and the ocean's waters receding on the Pacific coast? 

Captain Foxen beached his boat on the coast of 
California in 1832, and it now is far inland and 
above sea level. It also looks probable that the great 
Salt Lake is a pool of the ocean water that was left 
in a basin, and that this through evaporation is be- 
coming more saline and will eventually disappear. 
If this theory should be true, then the rotation, with 
external attraction, does cause a circumvolution of 
the waters, and in a great cycle of time history will 
repeat itself regardless of local upheavals. 

There are in California thousand of tons of sea- 
shells on the tops of high mountains, and in other 



198 Trailing and Caniping in Alaska 

places there are bones of animals, sixty feet beneath 
the surface. This supports the theory that old ocean 
has rolled between the dry-land periods, and that 
gigantic mammals performed on the stage prior to 
the last circumvolution of the waters. 

That does not, however, in any way disprove the 
fact that the earth's crust contracts and wrinkles, 
depresses and upheaves; for our old balloon will 
continue to do that until she becomes so near a solid 
that she drops in line as a secondary planet, a 
moon for some other planet, or else she will drop 
into the sun to furnish light and warmth to heav- 
enly constellations. Neither does it conflict with the 
approaching theory that the earth possesses another 
rotation, which, in time, changes the locations of the 
poles. 

If this theory of water movement be correct, then 
the complete circuit of the waters might cause a 
geological period, but the mind of man even then 
could not ascertain the chronology, as our history 
does not compose a unit, or one period. If this be 
true, the time will come when the Mississippi val- 
ley will be an inland sea, and Oceanica a vast con- 
tinent. 



CHAPTER XVI 

A porcupine is not so stupid as many will assume, but 
fairly bristles with pointed facts, sharp realities and pene- 
trating truths. 

Would-be prospectors have gone to Alaska with 
a book under one arm, and a package of geological 
phrases under the other, but they could not recognize 
a mine if they camped on it for a month. We fell 
into company with a doctor, who had worked him- 
self over into a prospector, and he could interest 
you for hours, talking about " petrified schist and 
mortified greenstone." He would sit around the 
campfire and make ridiculous anatomical diagnoses 
of all the mineral ledges within sight of the place. 
Although he was a voluble theorist he sadly needed 
experience. 

He shot the first porcupine he encountered at a 
distance of forty yards, and after shooting it three 
times, he walked up until only a few feet away from 
it and, discovering its eyes to be open, blew off its 
head. When encountering the next one, he ven- 
tured much nearer, and the third one he knocked in 
the head with a club. He then discovered that they 
always had their eyes open — even when dead — and 
remarking something about the first one having im- 

199 



200 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

posed a trick upon him, he proceeded to interest him- 
self in porcupines. 

He said that they were not game enough to shoot, 
and finally insisted that such sluggish animals should 
not be harmed at all. He also discovered that one 
who killed a porcupine with the intention of getting 
a sirloin steak would be disappointed, — for they 
didn't have any sirloin to speak of. He picked up 
a half-grown one by the back of its neck and brought 
it into camp to make a pet of it. He did not know 
that the youthful porcupine could be so easily satis- 
fied, as they are naturally very tame. During the 
cool part of the night the porcupine crawled into 
bed beside his benefactor. The doctor slept in a 
nude condition, with the exception of bed-covering, 
for the purpose, as he expressed it, of " exuding 
corporeal effluvium." 

During the restless sleep of the M. D. the poor 
porcupine was compelled evidently to act on the de- 
fensive to prevent his being crushed. I do not say 
that the doctor sat down on the porcupine, but one 
might infer he did, if one judged by the locality in 
which the quills were inserted. The way that M. D. 
danced around our campfire like a wild Indian and 
called for help, at the dead hour of midnight, was 
interesting and amusing. As he danced and pleaded 
I asked: 

"Where did you see them do that?" 

"See whom do what?" 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 201 

" The Indians." 

" Why, confound your idiotic brain ! Do you im- 
agine Indians shot all these arrows into me? I tell 
you, it was that infernal porcupine ! Do you under- 
stand? Now, go and get a small pair of forceps 
out of my clothes-bag and get to work! " 

" But, doctor! You said you brought these along 
for the purpose of pulling teeth! It would be un- 
professional to allow them to be used for any such 
base purposes ! " 

" Get those forceps, I tell you ! " 

"Oh, well, I'll get them if you insist; but if you 
are patient and will wait, those quills will work out 
in front of themselves in a day or two. It is as- 
tonishing how they will travel through a patient per- 
son. 

" Did you hear my commands? " 

" Certainly, doctor, but had you not better sit 
down while the search is being made? " 

" Sit down ! Me sit down in this condition ! 
Say " 

Then because of the doctor's dangerous irresponsi- 
bility and his threatening attitude, the search was 
made. It was somewhat prolonged, because of the 
agitated earnestness with which the doctor expressed 
himself. He appeared to be deeply affected below 
the surface, for otherwise, the mosquitoes which cov- 
ered his naked body would have monopolized his 
attention. 



202 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

The forceps were found, but it was necessary to 
build a large fire to have sufficient light, and the doc- 
tor complained about that, too ; said I was too blamed 
particular. Whenever he was relieved of a quill 
and some accompanying blood, he would act fran- 
tic and ridiculous, and jump up in the air, in such a 
way, that if a flashlight picture of the scene were in* 
troduced in this narrative, it would ruin the pub- 
lishers. Several times during the night, after this 
accident happened, the doctor awakened me and 
asked if I were really laughing or only snoring. 

From the high hills beyond the Gokona we could 
look down westward to where a stream of water 
came out from beneath a glacier, and parted half a 
mile below there, one branch going to the westward 
where it appeared to turn northward through the 
mountain range ; while the other continued a south- 
erly course into a lake. From thence the outlet could 
be seen to continue towards Copper River. That 
silvery thread appeared to be at our feet, but was 
in reality three miles away. From information pre- 
viously given to us by the Indians, we knew it to be 
the source of the Gulkana River ; but what was that 
other prong, and where was it leading? Was that 
glacier the source of two distinct rivers, the mother 
of twins? 

We descended to that remarkable place and 
camped among the trees, luxuriant bunch-grass and 
millions of mosquitoes. The mosquitoes were not 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 203 

counted — just conservatively estimated at that num- 
ber. As no horse-tracks were found, and as the 
Griffith party, from Cook Inlet, had passed south 
of that place the year before, it was evident that we 
were the discoverers of the source of twin rivers, an- 
other one of Alaska's curiosities. We spent three 
days exploring down the other fork, and found that 
it did pass back through the mountains to the Tan- 
ana. This water coming from one glacier on the side 
of a rough mountain range, and then separating half 
a mile below, was a peculiar freak. It made it pos- 
sible for a salmon to ascend the Copper, then the Gul- 
kana, through the lakes to this place, and then de- 
scend this river to the Tanana, Yukon and so on to 
Behring sea. It would cause him to hustle to arrive 
back at the mouth of the Copper in time for another 
season's run. As it would mean that he had crossed 
through two mountain ranges and traveled about six 
thousand miles to do that, it would require a fish 
with ambition to undertake the task. It is a fact that 
when we were there, a canoe could have been floated 
from the waters of the Copper to that of the Yukon. 
Down this river, where it was joined by a larger 
one from the west, we found several old horse tracks, 
among them being one mule track. That solved 
the riddle! This was the Delta River, which Lieu- 
tenant Castner had descended the year before, on 
his way from the Cook Inlet to the Yukon. They 
had nearly starved, and had killed and eaten the 



204 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

mule which had made those tracks; and even then, 
they certainly would have perished if the Indians 
had not assisted them. 

With due respect to Mr. Castner, it may be said 
that he was not the proper kind of a man to send on 
such a trip. His dictatorial manner caused the In- 
dians to disrespect him, and invited deception on 
their part. From his own report, it is a wonder 
that they did not destroy his party. Such leaders 
of expeditions only make it dangerous for the lone 
prospectors who are at the mercy of the natives. 

We had run completely out of provisions, even salt, 
and were living on what birds we could kill. We 
returned by ascending the east fork, and about a 
mile south of the turn we camped by a lake. There 
the ptarmigan were cackling in the tall bunch-grass, 
and ducks were swimming on the quiet water. Down 
the beach of the lake came a brown silvertip grizzly; 
he would whine and fight mosquitoes, wade out into 
the lake, drop down into the water and then gallop 
out and shake himself, making the water fly in all 
directions from his shaggy coat. 

I quietly slipped down to the shore of the outlet, 
which was about ioo feet wide, and secreted myself 
there, to await his coming down along the opposite 
shore. I desired to get his picture, for the light was 
just right, the lake scene was most beautiful and the 
spruce trees bordering it made the landscape all that 
could be desired. He came and stood just where 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 205 

I wanted him, but unfortunately the kodak had been 
broken during the day and it failed to snap. Fail- 
ing to get the picture, I decided to kill him and take 
the meat to Slate Creek, as the miners were in need 
of it and we had five loose horses with nothing 
to carry. 

I gave him a mortal shot, one that would have 
caused a deer to make a few jumps and fall over 
dead. The ball ranged through the heart cavity, 
and shattered the liver into pieces. The bear sprang 
into the air, fell, rolled over and over, bit the bullet 
hole, and ran into some brush, which he fought with 
desperation. 

Again he appeared on the beach of the outlet, 
where I gave him another shot, and the same per- 
formance was repeated. He fought the brush and 
rocks, and his squalls and growls were exceedingly 
loud. He ascended a knoll, stood on his hind feet 
and looked around, whereupon he received his last 
fatal shot, and rolled over — dead; thinking, no 
doubt, that those were the worst mosquitoes he had 
ever encountered. 

We swam our horses across the outlet and vainly 
tried to procure a picture of him. We had lost the 
opportunity of a lifetime: — to get a picture of a 
grizzly bear before and after being killed. 

The next day we loaded Bruin on our pack-horses 
and moved back towards Slate Creek. We camped 
on a clear stream emptying into what we named 



206 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Summit Lake, on the east fork of the Gulkana. 
That stream was red with salmon, droves of them — 
for they could be driven — on every riffle. Just be- 
fore we concluded to camp, it had just been remarked 
that this was an ideal place for bear, when across 
the water with a plunge and a splash, and up the 
hillside with a gallop and a snort, bounded a huge 
grizzly. He stopped about one hundred yards away, 
and gazed down with the look of the supreme mon- 
arch that he was. 

With a resolve to take all of the fresh meat that 
came our way, I sent a bullet crashing through his 
heart cavity. He fell, rolled and bellowed, then 
came for us like a whirlwind. Another ball en- 
tered between his shoulders and neck, and the per- 
formance was repeated. Again he came on, and a 
third shot shattered his neck, so that he piled up 
in a heap, just forty-three steps away. 

My companion remarked that as there would only 
have been time enough to have got in one more shot, 
and as he had no gun, and we were fifteen miles 
from timber, it would have been interesting to know 
just what I had intended doing in case I had failed 
to kill the bear. After a little reflection, I made 
the resolve never to shoot a bear when he was look- 
ing at me. That resolution, however, was com- 
pletely broken about a month later. We camped 
right there and dined on speckled trout in preference 
to bear or salmon. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 207 

While my companion was looking for the horses 
the next morning, he killed something, which he said, 
if it were not for its horns, he would have called a 
mule. Investigation proved it to be a fat caribou. 
The meat of a two-year-old caribou is about the 
sweetest, tenderest and most toothsome of all the 
wild animals. 

In possession of all the meat we desired, we started 
for Slate Creek. The salmon were so plentiful that 
the temptation to kill a few of them could not be 
resisted. I shot four, and tied them to my saddle- 
strings. Their tails reached down to my horse's 
flanks, and soon they began to flop. It appeared to 
me that the saddle-horse bucked over forty acres of 
ground, while our little dog Pete seemed to enjoy the 
show more than anybody. 

The joke was turned on him shortly afterwards, 
however, when a bear was seen standing on a nar- 
row island in the middle of the stream, eating sal- 
mon. As the water was making a great noise, and 
the wind was squarely across the river, neither bear 
nor dog knew of the other's presence until a collision 
was on. Pete fell backwards and jumped off into 
the water, while the bear plunged in on the other 
side. When Pete struck the water he was looking 
back towards the bear. Later, when we were in 
camp, he showed almost human humiliation, when 
being joked about that bear incident. 

We arrived at Slate Creek, after a cold ride, in a 



208 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

drenching rain. There I employed another com- 
panion to assist in exploring the head-waters of the 
Tanana. Our supplies, which had been cached under 
the shelter of some large spruce trees, at Mencomen 
Lake, were undisturbed. Many times have I slept 
on the dry ground beneath the boughs of a spruce 
tree, while it rained outside. 

At Mentasta Lake there came into camp an Indian 
boy, who said he had never worn shoes or even 
moccasins. When asked what he would do when 
the snow came, he replied: 
" Go all same — no shoes." 
" But hiyu snow, may-be-so you die ! " 
" Ha-lo ! Bear he no got shoes, he no die." 
This boy described for us the trail to Suslota, and 
following it we nearly drowned a horse. From Sus- 
lota we crossed to the head-waters of Little Tokio 
River, thence over high glacier moraines at the 
head-waters of the Hoolana. This was the place 
Captain West had told his men he had found 
his gold ; — the mud-glaciers are here as he described, 
but not the gold. We crossed these to the head of 
Lost Creek sometimes called Jack Creek. 

At the source of Little Tokio I picked from a 
bank of what appeared to be slate a short rib of 
some large animal. In its petrified condition, it had 
retained its shape and grain, although the substance 
was a hard, slatish material. I retain that curiosity 
in my possession, and no one can dispute the fact 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 209 

that it was once a rib-bone of some animal. How 
long it took for the lime to dissolve, and the struc- 
ture to absorb the earthy matter, no one can say. 

Rock, like everything else on earth, grows, lives 
and dies. I once knew of a rock when it was a bunch 
of clay on a bar of the Santa Maria River in Cali- 
fornia, for it had been deposited there during a 
freshet in 1884. Evidently it contained the ele- 
ments that enabled it to solidify rapidly, for in four- 
teen years it had become a hard, solid sandstone. 

I had a friend whose great hobby was geology, 
and he was so affected by the study that he would 
daydream about it, talking for hours about the dif- 
ferent ages. I furnished the team for his company 
for a twenty-five-mile drive, just to hear him dilate 
on that rock. I admired him because he knew more 
than most other people. He looked wise as he ap- 
proached the monument when it was pointed out, 
and the longer he looked, the wiser he appeared. 
After he had broken off a piece, he gave me the 
startling information that it was not Potsdam sand- 
stone. Now I didn't know Potsdam sandstone from 
any other dam sandstone, but he continued to employ 
unlimited profanity of the character indicated while 
dilating about that rock. He displayed so much 
wisdom that it required an effort for me to ask the 
important question which I had come so far to pro- 
pound. 

When he had finished the lecture, I asked timidly 



210 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

about the age of it, and he gave it unhesitatingly as 
several thousands of years! There — I had known 
of that rock from the time it was a soft mass through 
which one could run a sharp stick, or could cut down 
with a hatchet in two minutes. 

I was speechless ! Reincarnation had been proved, 
for evidently I had lived thousands of years before, 
and what I had seen and forgotten was beyond 
comprehension ! 

We descended Jack Creek and found an abun- 
dance of good feed for our horses. Sheep trails 
could be seen on the mountain sides. This creek 
empties into the Nabesna, a tributary of the Tanana 
River. 

jWe were riding down along the bank of that 
stream in a leisurely fashion when we discovered 
a grizzly cub approaching in the creek bottom. 
While hiding until he had become directly below, 
about thirty feet away, I was surprised by a snort 
from another, on top of the bank and only a few 
yards from me. He ran and was not shot at, because 
it was supposed that the other one was at a greater 
disadvantage below. On looking over the bank, we 
discovered that he had heard the warning snort of 
his companion, and was now three hundred yards 
away and running his very best. We had no bear 
meat for that nights supper. 

I spent the next day, August 27, in securing two 
mountain goats. Our supplies were running short, 
and it was necessary to have fresh meat. Fifteen 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 211 

were taking their noon-day rest on the summit of a 
high ridge, where it was difficult to distinguish them 
from the small patches of snow in their vicinity. 

With Pete at my heels I crept for half a day along 
the high precipices, and at last peeped over one of 
them, only to discover that the goats were out of 
range, and commanding a good view of their sur- 
roundings. Straight across a deep chasm were 
three that had ventured away from the rest to feed. 
They were two hundred and fifty yards away, at 
least, and under ordinary circumstances it would be 
foolish to try for them at such a great distance, but 
we were out of meat. 

If a ball struck below them, they would dodge 
over the ridge and be out of sight before another 
shot could be placed intelligently. If shots were 
placed above them, they would probably remain until 
the range was found. That plan was worked for 
three shots, dropping a little lower each time, and 
the third shot tumbled one of them over. The 
fourth shot caught another as he was crossing the 
ridge. The afternoon was spent rolling those goats 
down to the foot of the mountain, where Dashiell 
came and assisted in carrying them into camp. 

We moved down to timber, in the divide between 
the Copper and the Nabesna Rivers, and camped by 
a beautiful lake. There my brother made " jerkey " 
and dressed skins, while Dashiell and I explored to 
the Nabesna River. 



CHAPTER XVII 

A grizzly bears rapid approach, with blood streaming 
from his mouth, jaws clapping, and nostrils snorting, gen- 
erally acts as a powerful stimulant to the body of a man. 

On September 3, 1900, when my body was 
walking about seventy yards in front of the pack- 
train (my thoughts were down in the States, and I 
was in a half-witted mood), a brown silvertip 
grizzly rushed up out of the small creek. He as- 
cended the mountain-side, stopped about one hundred 
and thirty yards away and turned broadside. There 
was but one load in my 44, and we were not in the 
need of bear meat, but in my heedless, mental aban- 
don, I deliberately placed a hard bullet behind his 
shoulders. 

He rolled over, bawled, and performed the other 
usual preliminaries, and then turned his attention in 
my direction at a rate that indicated a final settle- 
ment in about nine seconds. When I twice snapped 
my revolver, the truthfulness as well as the awful- 
ness of my mistake dawned — no, it broke in upon 
me with startling suddenness. I desired very much 
to explain and apologize, but as that bear was half- 
way down the hill, and his jaw-clapping indicated a 
ruffled disposition, my legs positively refused to re- 



Trailing and Vamping in Alaska 213 

main there; and besides, I felt that they needed ex- 
ercising. 

At once I discovered that I was a remarkably 
good starter in a foot race. My hat was left where 
it indicated the starting-place very accurately, and I 
should not have stopped to pick it up if it had been 
filled with gold. I directed my course for the Na- 
besna River, about fourteen miles away, and planned 
to run by the pack-train so that my partner would 
know the direction I was traveling, and so also that 
he might cover the retreat with his 30-30 rifle. 
There were no trees to climb and I had no time to 
climb one even if a hundred had been there. I made 
several steps in the air to one on the ground, because 
I was trying to make schedule time, and had the 
brakes off and full steam turned on. All the re- 
served energy that had been stored for years made 
itself manifest on that particular occasion. 

There was an open flat about six jumps ahead of 
me — a distance that is much greater than the reader 
may imagine — and I felt intuitively that right there 
the bear would familiarize himself with the seat of 
my trousers. As the bear was running at an angle 
which would head me off at that point, and as I was 
interested in the outcome, I glanced over my shoulder 
to see just how it was going to be done. I then for- 
tunately observed that just before reaching the place 
of collision I should pass a small bunch of brush, and 
for a moment we should be out of sight of each 



214 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

other. Right there, I jumped my train off the track 
and rolled it down an embankment, while the bear 
punctually arrived at the flat, only a few yards away. 

After pointing his nose upward and emitting a 
loud snort, be became interested in the unusual sight 
of the pack-train. I bravely held my breath so as 
not to disturb his meditations, and when he again 
snorted, my heart acted rudely and I shrank up per- 
ceptibly. Vainly I listened for the report of that 
30-30, but the bear shuffled safely away, leaving a 
bloody trail up a rocky canyon. Then I straightened 
up and walked to Dashiell and inquired why he 
hadn't shot. Between spasms of laughter, he re- 
plied: 

" Hang it all, it wasn't my bear-fight! " 

It generally is supposed that a bear will give chase 
for only a few jumps, but when the Pacific Coast 
grizzly bear sees you, and knows you have hurt him, 
I know that he will come as far as 150 yards. To 
satisfy some hunters who claimed that a bear would 
charge but a very short distance, Mr. Dashiell made 
his affidavit concerning the distance that this bear 
gave chase, and it was published afterwards in an 
eastern magazine. 

The older a hunter becomes, the more respect he 
has for grizzlies. In a lonely canyon, in California, 
in 1884, I stood in front of a grizzly for one short 
round. With one stroke he separated me from my 
memory, then counted me out and walked away. If 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 215 

ever again I enter a twenty-foot ring with a grizzly, 
I want some kind friend to bet all of my money on 
the bear. 

We arrived at the Nabesna River on September 
i, and there, at an old camp-ground, we found a 
grave having the headboard carved with the name 
of John Stehn, of Benicia, California. The cir- 
cumstances surrounding that fatality may be of in- 
terest. 

In the spring of 1899, some prospectors had 
sledded into that place, and there had built a boat 
for the descent of the Tanana River. They were 
throwing their bedding into the boat, when a re- 
volver, which had been placed carelessly in a clothes- 
bag with the hammer on a cartridge, was discharged. 
The ball struck John Stehn in the neck, and in a few 
minutes he had bled to death. 

Of course it makes no difference to the dead where 
they are buried, but it is not consoling to the dying 
prospector, away in the wilds of Alaska — with no 
mother, sister or loved one to smooth his brow— to 
know that only the night birds and little squirrels 
of summer, and the bleak winds of winter are to visit 
his resting-place. No wreaths will be laid there, but 
the near-by spruce will moan a lonely requiem to the 
dead. 

Where the winter winds wail 
And the sad spruce trees moan, 

At the end of his trail 
There, he sleeps all alone. 



216 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

The prospectors continued their journey down to 
the Indian village of Tetling, where the little son of 
the chief was given the same deadly revolver. The 
little fellow dropped it, and again it was discharged, 
but this time his mother dropped dead. The man 
who had given the weapon to the boy made his 
escape during the excitement, but the Indians searched 
everywhere for him, and to this day, if they could 
find him, his life would pay the forfeit. Park Gris- 
wald and two other prospectors whip-sawed the lum- 
ber, and with their tools made a crude coffin, consol- 
ing the chief thereby, and insuring their own safety. 

At the source of the Nabesna River were some 
nuggets of native copper, and in places there were 
large porous boulders with small holes, showing 
where the metal had evidently been melted from 
them. The pumice stone found, indicated that at 
one time volcanic heat had been excessive in that 
locality. Moreover, a considerable quantity of vol- 
canic ashes from the crater of Wrangell, had been 
spread over the country recently by the wind. This 
Wrangell (Unaletta) crater is a geyser-covered area 
where the melting snows send their water down into 
the internal heat to return it as steam jets that float 
off upon the wind as clouds of vapor. Not always 
is it thus, however ; at times, great volumes of smoke 
are sent heavenward, accompanied by white, light 
ashes that the winds scatter over the upper valleys 
of the Tanana, White and Copper Rivers. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 217 

It was now time that we were taking our horses 
out of the high altitudes, so we returned to " Goat 
Camp," on the divide. From the outlet of the lake 
on the summit, Dashiell caught a great number of 
trout. There we experienced the first snow-fall of 
the season. In 1898 it fell on September 12, in 
1899, on September 14, and this year on Septem- 
ber 5. Those first snows disappear, usually, in 
twenty-four hours. 

We traveled a northwesterly direction towards 
Suslota Lake, along the foot of the mountain range 
where Lake Tanada could be seen to the westward. 
From that point we could look down on the Copper 
Valley, with its silvery threads of water, its medals 
of lakes, and its golden badges of cottonwood, quak- 
ing asp and birch. We traveled along birch ridges 
where magpies flew ahead and announced our com- 
ing, just as the bluejays do in the forests of the 
south. Occasionally a moose or bear track was seen, 
but large game was scarce. The hillsides were cov- 
ered with moss berries. The manzanita (little ap- 
ple), which grows twelve feet high in California, 
was here only a moss, but the berries were just as 
large as in the southern climes. The juniper, used 
for fence-posts in other places, had also degenerated 
here into a moss from which possibly toothpicks 
could be cut, although the berries also were of the 
usual size. 

We arrived at Suslota Lake on the fifth day after 



218 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

we left the divide. The outlet of that lake was a 
wiggling mass of salmon. This lake has derived its 
name from a family of Indians by the name of Sus- 
lota. They may have descended possibly from the 
Ainus of Japan, as they differ from the other Indians 
by wearing heavy beards. They have bushy hair, 
are very tall and most intelligent. They possess no 
family history, only that they were different from the 
other Indians. Suslota John, who lives at that lake, 
and Eselota, who lives one hundred miles down the 
Copper River, at the mouth of the Tonsina, are the 
only men now living of that wonderful tribe. Each 
of these men is six feet tall. Eselota had come up 
there eight years before, and, although sixty years 
old, had married a fifteen-year-old granddaughter of 
Suslota. The picture here represents Eselota and 
his family. His wife, the granddaughter of Suslota 
John, stands at his right, with their little girl in 
front. The one at his left is a daughter by his first 
wife. 

Chief Ewan, of the Gulkanas, told me that his 
father said the Suslotas once talked a different lan- 
guage. He said Mentasta John was a half-Suslota 
Indian, and that Chief Stickman's first wife was also 
half-Suslota. Younger Indians, however, laugh at 
the idea, and think they are the same Indians as the 
others. Suslota John told me that he was born on 
the shore of this lake, as was his father, and also 
his grandfather. He married a Tanana squaw, and 




' 



Eselota and His Family, 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 219 

had seventeen children and grandchildren. These 
Indians make a strong bow they call " chingah " 
(rabbit gun). A young Indian, Snelkettin, while 
we were there, killed a bear with one of these bows. 
He secreted himself beside the trail, and when the 
bear came along, he planted several of the copper- 
pointed arrows near the heart. 

When at Slate Creek I had attempted to send a 
worthless horse out to the chief packer, who was at 
Copper Center, but the man, instead of shooting the 
beast when he became exhausted, according to mili- 
tary rule, abandoned the old " crow-bait/' so that the 
Board of Survey, at Fort Liscum, sat on that horse — 
his absence or something — and because I could not 
swear that he was dead, very dignifiedly charged me 
eighty dollars for him. I did not need a horse, espe- 
cially that one, and never thought, when watching 
that antiquated equine deception fade in the distance, 
that I should have to pay that price for his carcass, 
with the sole purpose of filling space in Alaska's 
atmosphere. No doubt, at the time of that purchase, 
the drifting snow-flakes were playing hide-and-seek 
among his ribs, but then, was I not the proud owner 
of a horse? Now, I feel it most fortunate that I 
did not buy a good horse, for, at that rate, he would 
have cost me a few thousand dollars — that is, a com- 
monly good one would — for an extra good one would 
have cost much more. I am satisfied, however, with 
the shadow I bought. That incident caused the alii- 



220 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

■^ ^ ^ ^ — ^ — ^— ^ ^ 

gator to rise in me, but time has poulticed the sore 
place, and I am satisfied. 

I had at that time proved that the Alaskan Range 
carried in its fastnesses about all of the different 
kinds of minerals in the catalogue. Although I had 
been handicapped by attending to my duties as a 
scout I had gathered many samples of ore. One of 
these assayed 15 per cent, copper and $55 in gold 
per ton. Another $29, $30 and $32 in gold, lead 
and silver. One extra sample of nearly pure silver 
was obtained near what is known as Cobb Lake. 
Cinnebar and graphite were found, and also a few 
small ledges of free milling gold ore. The inaccessi- 
bility of their locations make them valueless at the 
present time. 

We fell in with many prospectors who were on 
their way to the coast. A prospector lives in winter 
on a liberal mixture of hope. In summer he pros- 
pects until he eats up all of his provisions and then 
returns; living too often on snow-balls and rabbit 
tracks. He then is loaded down with rock, rags and 
more hope. In their cabins they divide the long 
winter hours into slumber and wakefulness, and when 
awake no doubt lament the fact that they have no 
companions empowered with the legal matrimonial 
privilege of going through their pockets when they 
are asleep. 

We arrived safely in Valdez and found the little 
town taking on metropolitan airs, because a few men 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 221 

had brought their wives and children up there to live. 
In front of a hotel, a woman was whipping a small 
child, and when it ran from her she repeated the pun- 
ishment, then slapping another one of her children 
for a trivial offense. There was a man standing on 
the end of the long porch and I said to him : 

" It is only animal instinct in a child to run away 
from that woman, because she punishes it every time 
she catches it. Such a brutal mother should not be 
allowed to raise her children, as she is liable to make 
criminals of them." 

He slowly removed the cigar from the aperture of 
his face and replied: 

" Well, sir, my experience with that woman's dis- 
position, while living as her husband for twenty 
years, impresses me with the fact that if you should 
insist on giving her that information, it would be ad- 
visable for you to do so over a long-distance tele- 
phone." 

Then he deliberately replaced his cigar while I 
retreated to seclusion, remarking that there were 
times when I preferred to be alone. 

They had installed a telephone service in Valdez. 
One of the old-timers was so indifferent and sullen 
towards me that I expected trouble, and was not sur- 
prised when he challenged me to fight a duel of one- 
hundred words on that telephone. I delayed my an- 
swer to give his nerves time to weaken. I fight duels 
by proxy, and intended to secure a stuttering man to 



222 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



stand up in my stead in this desperate encounter; but 
my antagonist probably heard of my intentions, for 
when I accepted, he turned pale and disgracefully 
withdrew his challenge. 

As I was walking along the street " Whiskey Jim " 
staggered from a saloon with a badly bruised and 
bleeding face. As I had not seen him for nearly a 
year, I inquired the cause, and he replied: 

" Powell, for two years I have been stinking for a 
fight, and I'll be hanged if a fellow in there didn't 
just smell me ! " 

Here, as the hardships of the summer were past, I 
had only pleasant reflections. I cannot understand 
the narrow and contracted views of those persons 
whose minds never are allowed to expand beyond the 
confines of such a strenuously congested mass of 
misery as is a city of human beings. How could 
Samuel Johnson have known anything of life when 
he wrote: 

" When a man is tired of London he is tired of 
life, for there is in London all there is in life." 

To my companions and myself, the experiences of 
1900 — the glaciers, rivers and swamps; bears, cari- 
bou and goat; the castellated peaks of the Suslota, 
the precipitous walls of the Hoolana, and the lakes 
in their sequestered solitudes, were all only delight- 
ful pictures in memory's halls. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

" Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway, 
And I wait for the men who will win me — and I will 
not be won in a day; 
And I will not be won by weaklings, subtile, suave and 
mild, 
But by men with hearts of vikings, and the simple faith 
of a child:' 

R. W. Service. 

I take exception to the last words of the third 
line. How many brutal men have bit the frontier 
dust because they attempted to awe some mild-man- 
nered man ! Always beware of the mild, polite man 
who expresses regard for the rights of others, for so 
will he defend his own. I have seen a large human 
brute throw up his hands and, refusing to cross a 
dangerous river, return home, while a little, slim 
bundle of nerves remained, built a raft, crossed the 
river and made his fortune. Nerve, backed by moral- 
ity and right, makes the man; and the really brave 
ones are those who have the courage to do right. 

I withdrew my name from the list of Deputy U. S. 
Surveyors for Alaska to devote all of my time to 
prospecting. During the summer of 1901, James 
McCarthy, " Colonel " Launtz and myself were des- 

223 



224 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

tined to eat each others' cooking while we explored 
the head-waters of the Shusitna River. We built 
castles with no other foundations than that we were 
going on a strictly prospecting trip. It is more 
pleasant to build castles than it is to fall from their 
dizzy heights. I have fallen so far that I have been 
astonished to find I was the only person who was 
hurt. 

The subject of falling suggests the incident of the 
Swede who fell two hundred and fifty-six feet down 
a Treadwell shaft and was unhurt. When he was 
helped out, he exclaimed: 

M I one big yumper! " 

The man who holds the record for high jumping 
at Treadwell, however, was not the Swede, but a 
fellow who went up in front of a blast of giant pow- 
der, and of whom nothing came down but a sus- 
pender buckle. I was told that before the coroner 
would sit on the remnant, he gave the balance of the 
remains an hour to put in an appearance. My in- 
former said that this was an official recognition of an 
ascent of 119,873 feet and 6 inches. Possibly this 
may give us an approximate idea of how far one 
may fall and be killed. It is natural for human 
beings to fall, and has been so since our ancestors fell 
from grace. Children fall out of cradles, and later 
out of apple trees, and when cured of that, they fall 
into things, such as love and trouble. 

On our way to the interior, I saw a man attempting 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 225 

to wade the Tekeil River with a heavy pack strapped 
to his back. The current washed him from his foot- 
ing, and, with the pack holding him down, he would 
have drowned if I had not ridden my saddle horse in 
there and pulled him out. When he recovered, I 
asked : 

" Didn't you know better than to go into such 
dangerous water with a heavy pack like that strapped 
tightly to your back? " 

" Well," he answered, " I suspicioned that I had 
made a mistake, just as I began to strangle the last 
time!" 

We passed dozens of men carrying packs, who 
were on their way to the Slate Creek diggings. That 
was two hundred miles away, but they had heard that 
gold was there, and so they were going. They could 
not realize that long before the news had reached 
civilization, it had been too late to secure a valuable 
claim, and that they were just going in there to look 
at other men's gold. 

We found sleds by the trail, where men had be- 
come exhausted at trying to convert themselves into 
quadrupeds, and had given it up to go and tell of 
Alaska's hardships. I once attempted to pull a sled, 
but relinquished the intention with the thought that 
both industry and laziness are habits. However, I 
once saw a man make a great start in life by pulling 
a sled. He started with it down a very steep moun- 
tain. 



226 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

We met an Indian whose squaw and dogs were 
heavily packed. When asked why he did not carry 
the squaw's pack, he replied: 

" Me got em dog to carry pack; squaw, he no got 
dog." 

It was among those mountains during the winter 
of 1898 and 1899 that a companion of Charley John- 
son fell into the water and became mortally chilled. 
Charley urged him to hurry to some near-by timber 
where a fire could be built, but he said : 

" Charley, we have safely weathered many storms 
together, but now I feel the final chill crawling up 
to my heart, and I know it to be the last ! " 

Then he gasped and fell lifeless to the ground. 
Charley arrived at Quartz Creek, more dead than 
alive. After recovering he made many trips in search 
of the body of his partner, but never found it. 

We crossed Tekeil River on a narrow bridge, over 
water that was thirty feet deep. Even horses be- 
come imbued with recklessness in Alaska, and ours 
unhesitatingly undertook any task required of them. 
Possibly a thousand horses crossed over this bridge 
during that summer. 

Our ascent of the Copper River was the same old 
story of a battle with gnats, flies and mosquitoes. It 
is very probable that many of those mosquitoes could 
whip a wolf. They are the embodiment of bravery. 
I have seen a single mosquito attack a full-grown 
dog. It has been said that the Alaska mosquitoes 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 227 

differ from others by having a white spot between 
their eyes about the size of one's hand. I have met 
no baldfaced ones up-to-date, but the Colonel asserts 
that he met one on the trail, and fortunately for him, 
the monster was eating a squirrel at the time. 

After enjoying chicken stew for an evening meal, 
we were greatly amused at the Colonel's glorious 
exaggerations. The Colonel was a most agreeable 
camp companion, and very entertaining. He told 
of seeing a salmon in the river that was nine feet 
long. We worked with him until bed-time, "Jew- 
ing" him down, an inch at a time, until he had re- 
duced the length to thirty-six inches; but there he 
balked and declared by Mt. Drum that he would not 
take off another inch. The task of shortening up 
that salmon drove Mac to bed and caused me to 
reason with the Colonel. I told him that about all 
the satisfaction I ever had derived from the study of 
grammar was the proof that all other grammarians 
were liars, and added that I thought he should either 
write fiction or be a professed grammarian. 

The Colonel replied that the Americans were retro- 
grading rapidly into a nation of liars. He said they 
lied to their children about a mythical Santa Claus, 
and later on they compelled them to study fiction in 
the schools. They did this, he declared, with a pre- 
tense of studying English, when English could just 
as easily be taught in the study of natural and politi- 
cal history. He insisted that the Americans con- 



228 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

stantly pay for things they do not need, and buy books 
of fiction because they want to be humbugged. As an 
instance in point he cited the following circumstance : 
Lewis and Clark wrote facts about their journey 
across the continent, but the public demanded a liar 
to tarnish the story with romance and an Indian 
woman to guide them across. Subsequently the direc- 
tors of the Portland fair erected a monument to the 
mythical squaw, because they preferred that which 
was false — a deception and a lie. The real squaw 
only guided them a short distance. 

He objected to the Americans being taught Ger- 
man, French and the dead languages, when they 
should know that there are no business opportunities 
in Europe for their sons, while the whole of South 
America is a vast field for our goods and implements. 
Instead of teaching the Americans the English and 
Spanish languages, they cross the ocean to pay for 
languages they do not need. He added: " If Presi- 
dent Roosevelt said California had no schools, who 
knows but he was correct, and if that State were one 
of the leading ones in education, what about the 
others?'' 

That question sent me to bed, where I lay and 
writhingly attempted to digest the Colonel's lecture. 
I thought of the many graduates who are compara- 
tively ignorant of geography. How few of them 
know whether Sydney is in Australia or New Zea- 
land, or that Australia is larger than the United 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 229 

States. If they talked with you about Alaska they 
probably would refer to it as " The Klondike." I 
thought of a time when I had shown an educated 
lawyer some photographs of Alaska mountains that 
bordered the sea, and had attempted to explain to 
him that they were about five thousand feet high, and 
he had indirectly called me a liar by saying that it was 
impossible, as mountains did not attain such great 
heights at the edge of salt water. He evidently as- 
sumed that all the world was like Monterey County, 
California, and that one would be compelled to go as 
far from salt water as he would from there to the 
Sierra Nevadas, to see high mountains. He evi- 
dently did not know that St. Elias looks down from 
twenty thousand feet to the ocean that laps its base. 

I was reminded of a county school-board which 
recently required scholars to tell how a balky horse 
acts, and thereby impressed upon the scholars the 
fact of how silly a school-board could act. I thought 
drowsily that if I had devoted more time to the study 
of English, I should not now be attempting so often 
to perform the acrobatic feat of constructing sen- 
tences without subject and predicate foundations; 
and then I — I — passed into a fairy-land of slumber. 

On July 4 we arrived at the place where Mr. 
Date and I had left for the coast in 1899, with no 
footwear. Now there was an abundance of bunch- 
grass for our horses. The forest fires had quieted 
the mosquitoes, and as the warm weather was decid- 



230 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

edly enervating, we concluded to be patriotic and 
rest. The fires had driven our little dog Pete across 
the river, where he had traveled for one whole day, 
and then had swum over to our camp at night. 

Some visitors came into camp while we were bak- 
ing bread for our future needs, and the conversation 
turned upon cooking. One said he had cooked on a 
Yukon stove, another said he had cooked on a large 
hotel range, and the Colonel announced that he had 
cooked on a cattle range. 

On Slate Creek we saw string after string of 
sluice boxes, attended by long-bearded, long-haired 
and high-booted men, shoveling, picking and pan- 
ning. Others would not work, because they wanted 
$15.00 a day and could get but $10.00. A few 
claims were producing more than $100.00 a day to 
the man. 

One Sunday, when Slate Creek was abandoned by 
all hands, because they were attending a miners' 
meeting in another gulch, I walked up the creek to 
find it deserted, and thousands of dollars in the yel- 
low metal scattered around the tents in gold-pans and 
tin-cups. No one was left to watch over the treas- 
ure, as thieves in such localities are not protected by 
law. 

Sensational writers often harmfully and falsely 
educate the masses in their statements regarding life 
on the frontier. It is a pitiful sight to see a young 
man coming west, or northwest, with a six-shooter 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 231 

conspicuously hanging on the right, but wrong, side, 
in accordance with customs obtained from illustrated 
fictional periodicals and cheap shows. 

This Slate Creek was the gulch on which Gokona 
Charley, the Indian, had vainly endeavored to per- 
suade me to investigate and locate in 1899; an d no 
doubt but it was the original Captain West discov- 
ery. We left there and traveled for days over a 
rolling hill country and past the point where I had 
killed the bear by the lake the year before. We 
crossed the Delta River where it was not deep 
enough to swim our horses, and entered one of the 
then-unexplored sources of the Shusitna River. 

We crossed by easy passages through the moun- 
tains and discovered another glacier which was the 
source of two rivers, namely, the Eureka, a tributary 
of the Delta, and a fork of the East Fork of the 
Shusitna, now known as the McClarren River. Just 
below the glacier we crossed the McClarren where it 
was a mile wide. We found dry willow to burn when 
we were above timber, but the mosquitoes drove us 
down to where we could build large fires to smoke 
them from our horses. It is astonishing how quickly 
a horse will learn that smoke protects him from those 
insects. 

I discovered a beautiful waterfall near the source 
of the McClarren. On those travels we found few 
signs where Indians had made their annual fall 
hunts, but at that time they were down the river 



232 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

catching salmon. The subject of Indians caused the 
Colonel to tell about killing them until Mac lost his 
appetite. Evidently he had killed thousands of them 
— that is, Comanches, Apaches and Sioux, for he 
wished to impress us with the idea that he didn't 
count such as Diggers, Piutes and Siwashes. 

Mac and I left the Colonel to care for camp and 
for our crippled horses, while we prospected towards 
the west. We ascended over rolling, gravelly hills, 
through which is a strip of old ocean wash that may 
some day be worked for gold, yet we did not stop 
to prospect it, but climbed among the mountains 
where one would not think a horse could get a foot- 
ing, and at night we descended a steep canyon, where 
we camped and enjoyed ptarmigan stew, while it 
rained. 

The next day we again climbed among mountains 
where the sun was kissing new life into bluebells and 
buttercups. At one place, a caribou cow and calf 
approached to investigate the centaur-like intruders 
upon their northern domain. They stopped and 
looked, then trotted down fifty yards nearer. The 
little red calf trotted alongside of its mother's flanks 
and affectionately rubbed its little head against them. 
They came within fifty yards of us, and not until we 
had dismounted from our horses did they become 
really frightened and scamper away. The cow was 
too poor to shoot, and we would not separate them 
by killing the calf. Away up on a ridge could be 
seen the long horns of the cow, as she stopped to look 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 233 

back, but a report from my pistol caused her to dis- 
appear in the distance, and probably to follow more 
cautiously the trails of her ancestors. 

It really is a pity that human butchers are allowed 
to run at large and needlessly kill all kinds of game, 
even when it is unfit to be eaten. There are those 
who will kill and leave the carcass to rot, but fortu- 
nately such men are few, and they are never experi- 
enced frontiersmen. Both caribou and moose are 
wonderfully good swimmers and do not hesitate to 
swim across large rivers and even lakes. I have heard 
of men who would row a boat up to them, and there 
kill them, while they were swimming for their lives. 
Such men have no spirit, and they are the kind who 
brag about shooting deer with shotguns or killing 
fish with dynamite. 

We crawled up to one high divide, but a parachute 
would be necessary to enable one to drop down on the 
other side. There the aneroid indicated an elevation 
of seven thousand feet above the sea, and there, too, 
the clouds drifted away and allowed us one brief 
glimpse of Mount McKinley — or, as it is known by 
the Indians, Mount Bulsha, which is the largest and 
highest mountain on the North American continent. 
Another storm was approaching, and we hurriedly 
descended down to the edge of the Shusitna valley, 
where we camped among some dead spruce trees 
where the grass was as high as our horses' backs. 

A week before that I had traveled alone from the 
head of Clear Creek, and had arrived at the source 



234 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

of what is now known as Valdez Creek. On the 
way, I found an eighteen-foot vein of lignite coal. I 
also washed out some gold prospects on Valdez 
Creek, but they were of little importance. We had 
now come around to a point near the lower end of 
Valdez Creek, and close to some new good placer 
diggings. There Mr. McCarthy probably washed 
the first gold from the immediate vicinity of the Val- 
dez Creek diggings, but the credit for opening up 
the creek belongs, not to us, but to those who after- 
wards " mushed " in to that place and spent years in 
opening it up. They discovered the pay streaks by 
continual digging, and to such men must be given all 
the credit of opening placer camps and mining dis- 
tricts in the north, and not to the ramblers. 

On our return to the Colonel's camp, we saw one 
little bear. It was about this time that Archie Parks, 
twenty miles from that point, was most unlovingly 
hugged by a bear. The bear did not release his 
hold until the little Siwash dog of Archie's nipped its 
heels. While the bear gave chase to the dog, Archie 
ran to his companions in a dazed and bloody condi- 
tion. Fortunately, Parks was not seriously hurt, and 
after seventeen stitches had been taken in his scalp, 
he remarked that he felt bearly impressed with the 
idea of returning to Slate Creek for further repairs. 
When we arrived at the old camp, we found Colonel 
Launtz sitting by the campfire, watching for In- 
dians. 



CHAPTER XIX 

// a trail doesnt bring an appetite to a man, it will lead 
the man to an appetite. 

From that hospital camp we returned in a south- 
erly direction. We recrossed the McClarren River, 
where we saw more than one hundred wild geese 
swimming down the stream, having been floated 
from their island nests by the high water.- They 
could " honk " equal to their grandfathers, but they 
couldn't fly, and their short wings proclaimed them 
to be goslings. 

We camped on an old Indian trail that leads from 
the Gulkana country to Knik, by way of the Matan- 
uska, and on that trail we saw the tracks of a white 
man leading westward. It is probable that those were 
the last seen tracks of Clark Moore, of Fresno, Cali- 
fornia. He passed through that way but never again 
was heard from. There were tracks of three Indians 
on that trail, and if not murdered by them, he must 
have died an awful death of a wild, crazed and 
wandering prospector. His last moments may have 
been happy in the delusion that he had found the 
rich pay he so long had sought. 

We traveled several days in an easterly direction, 
over high gravelly and brush-covered ridges, enclos- 
ing numerous lakes. All lakes that had outlets were 

235 



236 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

stocked with trout. The hills were literally covered 
with cackling ptarmigan, and our diet generally con- 
sisted of a choice of ptarmigan or duck stew, or fried 
trout. Once, when Mac crippled a duck, our little 
dog Pete was sent into the water after it. When he 
approached, it dived, and down went Pete. For a 
minute the water was smooth ; then up came the little 
dog with the duck in his mouth. 

At another time, when we were camped near the 
shore of a lake that formed one of the sources of the 
Gulkana River, we discovered the fresh tracks of 
three Indians. As they were near our camp and did 
not come in, it was evident that they were renegades, 
out for no good purpose. 

When crossing through a high pass between the 
rolling hills and near the Gulkana Lake, I saw two 
caribou, which were about a quarter of a mile away. 
Both had large, long antlers, but evidently one was 
a bull, and the other a small heifer. The male stood 
on the point of a small hillock and displayed the 
august bearing of a leader, gazing far away into the 
blue, and over Alaska's spruce forest beneath. He 
lowered his great antlers until his nostrils had sniffed 
at the bunch-grass at his feet, and when he raised 
them again, their golden polished surface played re- 
flections with the light of the northern sun. 

I left my horse and noiselessly crawled to a place 
where it appeared that I was within reach of him. 
Placing my pistol on a hummock of the tundra, I 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 237 

aimed to the top of his shoulder and fired; but that 
elevation was evidently insufficient and the bullet 
must have struck beneath him. It was farther away 
than I had first supposed, so I raised to sight above 
him and fired again. Elk-like, he never flinched, but 
before another shot could be carefully placed, he 
walked a few steps and lay down. Then he got up 
on his feet and turned broadside, so that another bul- 
let was placed as near the second as possible, and he 
slowly turned and again lay down. From the way 
his large antlers were rocking, it was evident that his 
life-blood was passing out. 

The heifer was looking in my direction, and I 
raised my white hat to further excite her curiosity. 
She, antelope-like, quickly responded by trotting in a 
large circle that brought her much nearer. She 
stopped and looked for a moment, and then con- 
tinued the circle ; the next time came nearer, and the 
third circle brought her so near that, when she 
stopped to look, I gave her a mortal shot at one him- 
dred and fifty-six steps. She continued her circle in 
a rapid trot and after going about fifty steps tumbled 
over, heels up. She was killed just as quickly with 
that shot from a .38 cal. pistol as if she had been 
shot with a 45-70 rifle. 

It was found that the last two shots at the bull 
had struck near together and one of them had pierced 
the heart. The Colonel stepped the distance and 
then advised me to mould my bullets and mix 



238 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

salt with the lead, so that it would preserve the meat 
until I could arrive to where it was. 

We loaded our horses with meat, as I never waste 
it or travel with one who does. That evening we 
descended to timber, strung the meat up in trees and 
remained there several days prospecting. Here, the 
Colonel offered to bet that Mac could eat a caribou 
at two sittings, but the challenge was declined. 

I descended in search of a way that would lead us 
off from the mountain and through the timber, and 
had not gone half a mile from the camp when I came 
out within thirty steps of a large bull moose. He 
was a pretty sight as he dignifiedly turned his antlers, 
and instantly I regretted that I had not brought my 
kodak. Instinctively I caught hold of my pistol, 
but he was peaceably inclined and walked away. I 
did not care to kill him, as we had plenty of meat in 
camp ; but at that time of year these animals are dan- 
gerous, and when one is so near they are liable to 
charge. 

We descended to the river between the lakes, and 
there came upon a camp of some prospectors. 
Among them was a " tenderfoot " who appeared to 
take everything good-naturedly, but acknowledged 
that he did not enjoy the exposures that the life en- 
tailed. At least I inferred as much when he an- 
nounced : 

" Here I've been traveling all summer, with no 
roof over me except the canopy of heaven! It is 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 239 

with a smile in my eye that I confess I have used the 
soft side of a rock for a pillow while sleeping in 
these wilds ! " 

" Have you found any gold? " I asked. 

"What? me find gold? Why, these fellows say 
I couldn't save a color of gold from a pan of saw- 
dust! All the gold I have found, you could put in 
your eye, and it wouldn't make you wink! I'm not 
out for gold, but for experience, and now I am over- 
loaded with that. No, sir, I haven't done a thing 
for myself or any one else, all summer. They did 
send me to search for the horses one morning, and 
the whole crowd spent the rest of the day looking 
for me. After that, they said they wanted me only 
for an ornament to the expedition. One calls me the 
mascot, and another the hoodoo. As soon as pos- 
sible, I am going to return to my people." 

" I suppose the fatted calf will be slaughtered on 
that occasion? " 

" No, sir; a calf wouldn't do it justice. It will be 
an ox!" 

The next night we camped by a beaver lake that 
had been formed by a dam across a ravine, which 
backed water up over several hundred acres. It had 
been recently constructed, as green willows were to 
be seen in it. There should be a fine imposed on any 
one who brings a beaver skin from Alaska. That 
would dispel the Indians' incentive for killing them. 
There are vast areas especially adapted for beaver 



240 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



pasturage, and good for nothing else, and if the 
beavers were protected for twenty years, the country 
would again be restocked with the fur that assisted 
Russia in clearing six millions of dollars. 

Mr. Quigley accompanied us from Slate Creek as 
far as Indian Creek. It was on this creek that 
Quigley climbed a tree, and all the enticing looks of 
two full-grown grizzlies could not induce him to 
come down. In writing this manuscript, I carelessly 
left Quigley up there in the tree, but a friend, when 
reading it, advised me to get him down, even though 
it were necessary to shoot him out. As he seemed to 
be a pretty good sort of a fellow, I will elaborate 
the account and explain what really happened. 

A dog came into camp and frightened the bears, 
and when they ran away, Quigley descended. He 
said that he had been busy repairing a pack-saddle, 
when, upon hearing a noise, he looked over his shoul- 
der and saw two bears within a few steps of him. 
He had a 45-70 rifle near, but as the tree was closer 
than the gun, he chose the tree. If he had had a 
Frontier revolver strapped to him, from his perch 
he could have killed the bears, but he was one of 
those who depend upon a rifle. 

A prospector who depends on a rifle always is 
telling what he could have killed if only he had had 
his gun with him. He becomes weary of carrying a 
rifle everywhere he goes, and consequently about 
half the game he sees is when he is unarmed. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 241 

There were signs that many Indians once had 
made this country their home. An old trail leads up 
the creek and over the rolling hills beyond. There 
can be seen old " high-signs," which may be found 
in all Indian countries. Old dead bushes bore knife 
marks that were made before we were born, and 
they suggested the query of: How many, old and 
young, with their joys and troubles, have trodden 
this deep-worn path? They may have had hopes, 
but it is doubtful if they extended beyond a pros- 
pective dance, " pot-latch," or a moose hunt; they 
had their jealousies, however — sickness and death. 

The countless herds of wild animals contributed 
their numbers to aboriginal support until strong 
tribes inhabited these wilds. When the herds were 
nearly exterminated, they being the principal sup- 
port of the Indians, the red men, too, lay themselves 
down and died. A few caribou and moose survive 
the contest, but fewer Indians. 

It rained so hard while we were at the head- 
waters of that creek, that after two days of prospect- 
ing, we returned to our camp, and found that Quig- 
ley had left for the Yukon. Montgomery and Mc- 
Kenney were there, having spent the summer on the 
Tanana and White Rivers, and they had eaten noth- 
ing but sheep meat for three weeks. 

We were sitting by the campfire after supper, ex- 
changing summer experiences with our visitors, when 
the Colonel told a very remarkable story. Whenever 



242 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



the Colonel tells anything, however, it is remarkable. 
He told us of once having discovered a wonderful 
deposit of lead on the summit of the Olympics. He 
peeled a flake of it, which he rolled down hill until 
it gained momentum by its weight, and then he lost 
control of it. He said it rolled down the mountain, 
eating deeper and gaining weight and speed until it 
tore up trees and left a great canyon as its track. 

There was silence in that camp for awhile, because 
no one felt competent to criticise the remarkable 
statement. Even Pete, our dog, had a doubtful ex- 
pression on his countenance, but it was undesirable 
to reprimand him in the Colonel's presence. Cau- 
tiously remonstrating to the Colonel the next day, I 
said: 

" Colonel, those visitors are strangers to us, and, 
while no one can dispute that remarkable occurrence, 
because you say you were alone at the time, they may 
be inexperienced in prospecting, and entertain doubts 
about it." 

" See here," he replied, " if you don't sit right 
down on strangers at the beginning, they will impose 
on you. All young upstarts who come along invari- 
ably attempt to tell bigger lies than any one else, un- 
less you knock them out at first, and then hold your 
club over them as long as they are in your camp. 
No, sir! I told that for self-protection, sir! It is 
a duty I owe to you and our camp, sir! We can't 
afford to allow ourselves to be imposed on, sir ! " 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 243 

Near the mouth of the Chistochina River an old 
Indian grave had washed away and the bones were 
scattered along the bank. I told Chistochina Char- 
ley about it, and this nineteen-year-old Indian re- 
plied : 

" Yep, he bones of my grandmother. Long time 
grandmother catchem salmon from Copper River, 
now Copper River catchem grandmother.' ' 

We crossed the Gulkana River and camped where 
some Indians were, and they cautioned us to sleep 
away from near the firelight, as a white man, while 
traveling along the trail a few days before, had been 
shot by an unknown enemy. They suspected that 
three Tananas had done it, because they had heard 
night-calls a few nights before. When they crossed 
the river the next morning, they had discovered the 
moccasin tracks of three Indians. As we had seen 
the moccasin tracks of three Indians, several times 
during the summer, this verified my first conclusions 
in regard to them. I think they were searching for 
a white man who had tied Indian Albert up to a tree, 
and had whipped him for stealing. This white 
man, instead of going into the Shusitna country, 
as they had supposed, had gone down the river to 
Fairbanks, and at this writing is at Goldfieldy 
Nevada. 

We swam our horses across the Tazlina River. 
Here Charley Stobell, of Port Angeles, Washing- 
ton, was drowned in an attempt to cross on a mule. 



244 Trailing and 'Camping in Alaska 

Man and beast drifted down and rolled over a large 
boulder. Charley never came to the surface. 

A man's social, or monetary, standing in civiliza- 
tion exerts no influence whatever, when he goes on 
one of those Alaskan trips. Geologists, military cap- 
tains, postal inspectors and capitalists have discov- 
ered that they cannot depend on others who are oc- 
cupied in caring for themselves, and that they are 
compelled to do their share of the labor. They must 
make a choice of the tasks as they present them- 
selves in this way: Which do you prefer, horse- 
hunting, cooking or preparing camp? If you are a 
good woodsman, one who can not become lost, you 
are the one to go horse-hunting. 

You travel until tired, then listen for the forty- 
second time for that horse-bell; then, sitting down 
on a log, you continue to listen, while a raven croaks 
at you as he passes up the river. You take out your 
knife and whittle, and wonder why you came to 
Alaska; then you cock up your left ear and listen 
some more. 

A little bird about the size of a butcher-bird, one 
that prospectors call " Camp Robber," alights on 
the ground, impudently near, and squints one eye 
up at you, not asking your business but trying to dis- 
cover something he can steal. He will follow you 
to camp and steal everything there except the pack- 
saddles. A little spruce squirrel will descend from a 
tree near you, chatter " clinket " and then run up 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 245 

the tree a few feet, only to return nearer the next 
time. You admire his red coat, his bushy, grayish 
tail and his round, beady black eyes. He may run 
up on a limb and there warble a few notes of music. 
I was in Alaska three years before I discovered that 
those melodious notes were produced by a squirrel; 
I supposed that " clinket " was all of its vocabulary. 

You kill a large mosquito that has been tapping 
a vein on the back of your hand, and that makes 
just one thousand and one of them that you have 
killed while sitting there. A large bumblebee comes 
buzzing around a lupine, and a big green-headed 
horsefly alights on a fern; then you get up and turn 
over a rotten chunk of wood and uncover a nest of 
very large black ants. 

You move away about one hundred yards, stop 
to listen for the horse-bell, and start to go again, 
when a spruce hen flies out of a tree within a few 
feet of your head. It alights on another tree near 
by, then cranes its long neck at you, turns its little 
head to one side, and exhibits its speckled breast to 
advantage. The spruce hen is about the size of a 
leghorn chicken, with black specks on a grayish 
bosom, and is rather stylish, and inclined to put on 
airs. 

You meander a quarter of a mile, and among 
some large trees you find wild red currants on bushes 
about three feet high. You eat a double handful 
of them, make a wry face, and decide them to be 



246 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

about as sour as whiz. Presently you conclude there 
was an agreeable whang to their taste, your mouth 
waters for more, and you eat another handful and 
make more wry faces; then eat some black currants 
which have a musky flavor, then some moss berries 
to take away their taste; and then finally some blue 
berries to take that taste of the moss berries from 
your mouth. 

You hear the horse-bell, travel a quarter of a 
mile, hear it again, but not so loud; then travel an- 
other quarter of a mile and you don't hear it at all. 
You decide that you have gone in the wrong direc- 
tion, and after traveling an hour over a moss-covered 
country you come out on the bank of the river, feel- 
ing exhausted. You look in the dust of the trail 
there, and find a fresh bear track. Somehow, this 
discovery refreshes you wonderfully, and you im- 
mediately return to camp to impart the information 
that the horses have taken the back track; but there 
you find them, all saddled, for they had been lying 
down, not one hundred yards from where you had 
slept. 

Mounting the horses and with pack-horses fol- 
lowing, the three of you travel along river bars to 
where a place is found that is sufficiently shallow to 
admit of fording. Men and horses safely cross 
through the swift water, with the exception of one 
horse that starts too low down; and one man rides 
down there to turn him back. He gets into deep 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 247 

water where the waves dash against the boulders, 
and when all are on the bank except this one man 
and horse, you see them strike a large boulder, roll 
over and disappear beneath the surface. Presently 
the horse is seen to gain the shore without his rider. 
The man's dog, that swam near them all the time, 
also reaches land and wistfully looks over the river's 
surface. 

It requires an hour of time for you to go through 
the brush and fallen timber to the horse, and another 
hour is spent in looking along the bank for the lost 
one, but glacier streams never give up the dead. 
With the riderless horse you return to your com- 
panions and go a mile farther along, camping among 
a heavy growth of spruce, where there is good horse 
feed near by. 

After partaking of your evening meal, and you 
and your remaining companion are silently gazing 
at the blazing campfire — for the sad incident of 
the day has cast a gloom over you — you express 
your sadness in words, whereupon your companion 
suggests a diversion of mind to something more 
pleasant. You reply that it is useless to try, as there 
is the rolled sleeping-bag on the other side of the 
fire; whereupon the drowned man's dog goes to it, 
looks inquisitively at you and then trots off down 
the trail towards the river. 

You conclude to retire and crawl into your sleep- 
ing-bags, with both your hands beneath the boughs 



248 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

of the same tree. The dismal howl of a dog comes 
to your ears from away down on the river bot- 
tom. The embers of the fire die low, a lone owl 
hoots from the dark recesses of the forest, and the 
stars of the September night shoot their streams of 
light down between the trees. The dog returns and 
lies down beside his master's sleeping-bag. That 
is a sample of the life led by the Alaska frontiers- 
men in summer-time. 



CHAPTER XX 

The cord that ties the trail-boys, has lashed them heart to 

heart; 
No stage presents their joys, no actors play their part; 
Their struggles are seldom known, because through wilds 

untrodj 
Those daring spirits roam where there is naught but God. 

I shed the above after eating a breakfast of brain 
food and then being jostled over a very rough road. 
The reader is warned to prepare for any volcanic 
outburst of rhyme that may be exploded in future. 

We rested a few days at Copper Center and then 
continued our trip to the Coast. A description of 
a trip down the Copper River that was taken by 
seven prospectors that September, 1901, may be in- 
teresting. They were Harry Thompson, Charles 
M. Sclosser, J. B. Morris, Al. Dowling, C. A. 
Punches, J. A. Jacobson and " Shorty " Fisher. The 
last named was assisted into the boat by the others, 
at Copper Center, and when Punches was asked the 
cause of " Shorty's " helplessness, he replied: 

" He's been shot through the ham! " 

It was supposed that the slight wound had been 
caused by a malicious Indian, and possibly one of 
the three before-mentioned. He had been walking 

249 



250 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

along the trail at the time the shot was fired from 
ambush. " Shorty " was now constantly reminding 
the others of his presence by incessant groans. 

The boat was cast off and, aided by six sturdy 
oarsmen, it flitted along on the swift current like a 
bird on the wing. It darted down rapids where the 
hidden boulders sent spray high in the air; and 
around curves, between high gravel banks and broad 
level flats. These flats were covered with cotton- 
wood, spruce and willow trees, with occasionally 
cleared spots where grass grew to prodigious height, 
and waved and bent in the soft breeze. Sometimes 
an Indian u set-down " was passed, where old dirty 
rags were waved at the passing white men. Little 
boys threw pebbles into the muddy Copper, and, with 
scowling faces, hurled a jargon of anathema, their 
natural heritage, after the white adventurers. 

They passed through Wood Canyon, with its high 
moss-covered walls confining the deep whirlpools 
of the enraged Copper. Even the color of the water 
indicated anger, at its source. When they arrived 
at the rapids, all hands, even the dogs, Ginger and 
Joe, jumped ashore, for it was necessary to line the 
boat past two sections of the rapids. By good boat- 
manship they could cross and descend a slough that 
would avoid the lower rapids and the danger of be- 
ing hurled against and beneath the falling ice of 
Miles glacier. Before they had lined to that point, 
the boat was swept from their hands. It capsized 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 251 

and spilled in the turbulent water all they possessed, 
excepting the gold in their belts. 

There they were, cold, wet and hungry, with the 
raging ice waters of the Copper in front, and the 
glacier below — tumbling blocks of ice as large as 
town squares into a two-hundred-acre sheet of deep 
water. They would sink out of sight, then rise to 
float off as icebergs. The men were compelled to 
sit around all night, without a fire, and listen to the 
booming of the falling ice, while the cold rain 
drenched them to the skin. Death? Yes, that was 
what it would have meant to most men, but they 
were inured to hardship and had been made re- 
sourceful by frontier experiences; they did not de- 
spair even in such a dangerous and desolate locality. 

The next morning they managed to climb back 
on to the glacier. There they decided to cross the 
four miles of dangerous ice, and attempt to descend 
the left bank of the Copper, where possibly they 
might build a raft of driftlogs and willow-withes 
sufficiently strong to carry them across the river. 
Thence, by traveling down along the bank, they 
could go possibly to Alganik trading-post. 

It was perilous to jump crevasses, or to walk be- 
tween the yawning ones, so the whole of that day was 
spent in crossing that dangerous ice-field. All the 
while it rained, and the booming of the breaking 
glacier, only a few hundred yards below them, was 
constantly heard. Occasionally, little Ginger, so 



252 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

named because of his color, would sit on the edge 
of a yawning crevasse and howl, then run up and 
down until he had found a narrow place where he 
could leap across. 

They were safely over by night, and once more 
on the level bottom of the Copper, where they built 
a sickly fire from wet driftwood; but they had noth- 
ing with which to allay their pangs of hunger. They 
traveled another day, and " Shorty " grumblingly 
followed to another starvation camp. Here, however, 
they found " chauce," a wild parsnip root, that is 
the farinacious diet of the Indians. They managed 
to dig enough of that for a taste, but it was a poor 
quality of food. 

Another day was spent in traveling to a place 
where further progress in that direction was im- 
possible, for the Copper ran to their side and against 
a mountain. They had found no material with which 
a raft could be made, and, discouraged and weary, 
they again assembled around a flickering campfire 
while the cold rain beat upon them. 

Occasionally they slept, only to dream of food 
and the comforts of home, and then awaken to real- 
ize their bitter situation. This had a depressing 
effect, in spite of Jacobson's laughter, which was a 
well-meant, but weak effort. 

They had passed a wrecked boat, about thirty 
miles back up the river, and it was suggested that 
if they could return, patch it up and again attempt 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 253 

the rapids, they would exhaust their only resource. 
It appeared to be impossible to recross the glacier 
without food, and the mention of such a hazardous 
undertaking brought renewed groans, imprecations 
and prayers from " Shorty." With one square meal, 
however, it might be possible, but that was impera- 
tively necessary. One of the men, rousing himself 
from deep thought, said: 

" Boys, we must kill a dog, make a square meal 
out of him and then mush back! Of the two dogs, 

I guess the most appetizing would be little Ginger." 
The affectionate spaniel, hearing his name spoken, 

approached the speaker, and his inquisitive look was 
construed to mean, "I'm ready!" So poor, faith- 
ful Ginger was soon killed, skinned and cooked. 

After partaking of a square meal of roast dog, 
five of the party bade " Shorty " and Punches good- 
bye, and began the dangerous attempt of returning 
for the wrecked canoe. Punches was to care for 

II Shorty," while " Shorty " expressed a willingness 
to pray for the whole crowd. At the first declara- 
tion of this undertaking, Punches said: 

" See here, ' Shorty,' if you must pray, please 
cut me out. Sabe? I must keep busy at digging 
roots for both of us, and it would be preferable for 
you to assist, defer praying, and thank God when 
you get out. Besides, it is very doubtful if you could 
obtain an audience with the Creator, anyway, with 
your admixture of profanity and supplication." 



254 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

But " Shorty " persisted in praying and groaning, 
while Punches dug roots and profanely qualified his 
expressions of disgust at " Shorty." 

It was with a feeling of complete abandonment 
that " Shorty " and Punches watched the receding 
forms of their companions, when they left on their 
uncertain mission. Their success was possible but 
not probable, and if they secured the boat, it was a 
question whether some of them would not lose their 
lives on the glacier, or on their return. The miser- 
able days were anxiously passed by those two lonely, 
starving human beings, while they computed their 
slender chances of being rescued from that isolated 
locality. With no shelter or bedding, they sat around 
on rocks while it rained, rained, rained, and 
" Shorty " cried, grumbled and prayed. 

The five sturdy adventurers recrossed the glacier, 
scaled the sides of precipices where the raging river 
crawled far below, and slept beneath spruce bushes 
during the nights. They found the boat, and with 
their knives cut away the damaged portion, then 
burned the nails from the useless boards and replaced 
the stern, making it much better and stronger than 
they had expected to do. They lined this empty 
boat safely through the rapids, and joyfully floated 
down towards the camp of Punches and " Shorty." 

When they were seen, " Shorty " yelled that his 
prayers had saved them, and rushed for the boat, 
hugging the rescuers, one at a time. Then he and 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 255 

3M^ ^— — — — ^— n»J«» m » lli i » ^ — Mam— mm 

Punches declared each other to be insane, while Ja- 
cobson acknowledged that both were correct. 

Reunited, they drifted down one of the many chan- 
nels of the Copper River delta, and past Alganik 
trading-post, where they found not a soul or a bite 
to eat. Here Jacobson examined several barrels 
that were empty, and one that he supposed was filled 
with water; but afterwards he was told that it was 
half-filled with salted salmon. Jacobson says that 
to this day, whenever he thinks about that incident, 
he goes and buys himself a mess of fish. In their 
attempt to reach Eyak, they drifted to sea, out around 
the cape, where their little craft was tossed and 
pitched by the ocean swells. Days passed, and it 
seemed that they would never arrive at Orca. A 
watery grave or starvation seemed inevitable. 
Again hunger suggested that they should eat Joe, 
their remaining dog, but one man pleaded that his 
life be spared for another day. 

They were weakly pulling their oars near a wooded 
shore, when one of them announced that he espied 
an Indian in a canoe, not a mile away. They re- 
doubled their efforts, and with frantic yells succeeded 
in attracting his attention. He proved to be a white 
man by the name of Hansen. 

The appearance of these hatless, shoeless and rag- 
ged skeletons readily explained to Mr. Hansen their 
starving condition. He piloted them for a short 
distance to his cabin, where they were fed and shel- 



256 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

tered until strong enough to proceed the short dis- 
tance to Orca. When they parted company they 
gave Hansen $150 in gold nuggets. They had 
fasted for ten and one-half days with $10,000 in 
their belts. Al. Dowling unfortunately lost $300 
with his sleeping-bag in the rapids. 

At the time of this writing, Joe Morris is in Cal- 
ifornia, " Shorty " Fisher in Chicago, and Thomp- 
son in South America, while the rest, even to dog 
Joe, are still adding to their Alaskan experiences. 
Such were the trials subsequently related by several 
members of that party of adventurers. 

I am constrained to believe that the nearer the 
body is to death, the more the mind wanders in the 
mysterious beyond, and possibly associates itself with 
those who have before departed from this life in- 
carnate. The nightly recurrence of disagreeable 
dreams, when endeavoring to rest the tired body and 
weakened mind, are doleful reminiscences for those 
who are following the lonely and infelicitous life 
of daily trudging in rain and cold, when constantly 
exposed to danger. 

I dream very seldom of the departed, when at 
rest in civilization, but when at the head-waters of 
the Shusitna River, I often have been annoyed with 
ghostly nocturnal companions. Others have com- 
plained of the same annoyance, and for an example, 
here is Bob Young's dream: 

" I had been packing my outfit across a large gla- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 257 

cier's moraine," he said, " and was nearly exhausted 
from walking so much on the solid ice. At night I 
spread my sleeping-bag among some rocks, and 
soon was asleep amid those weird and desolate sur- 
roundings. 

" I dreamed that I was back home, and that it was 
very dark when I opened the yard gate and stepped 
on the paved walk, so that it was necessary to step 
short and stamp my feet to follow it. As I neared 
the door I heard mother say, as plainly as I ever 
heard her in my life : 

" ' Father, are you asleep ? ' 

" ' No, what is it? ' he answered. 

" * I hear a cow walking on the lawn ; better go 
out and drive her off.' 

" He came to the door and opened it and ex- 
claimed : 

" ' Why, mother ! It is no cow ! It is poor Bob, 
who has come home after walking on the glacier until 
he is all stiffened up ! ' 

" I threw my arms about father and awoke to 
find myself yet on that old glacier, thousands of 
miles from home, and to realize that both my par- 
ents had been dead many years." 

It may be that our superstitious faculties have 
more sway and work more freely at the times when 
we are most weak-minded. I remember that once I 
was successfully beaten by a palmist. I had given 
her a dollar to tell me something that I didn't know; 



258 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and at that time of my life I did not realize how- 
easy that was to do. She filled her part of the agree- 
ment faithfully, by telling me that I was a married 
man and had two children. Now, if I had been mar- 
ried, it must have been when I was not in my right 
mind; although possibly most men are not in their 
right minds at the time they are married. I did 
not then, and do not now, regret paying that dol- 
lar, but I had not walked a block, trying to recall 
the circumstances of having done such a thing, when 
I paused, turned right about and foolishly returned 
and paid her another dollar to tell me where was 
my family. That apparently proves that one fool- 
ish action leads to the commission of another. The 
act of paying that last dollar is what I regret; not 
because I failed to find them, for I might have re- 
gretted it if I had, but because it illustrated the fact 
that when one starts down a weak-minded grade it 
is so difficult to stop suddenly. 



CHAPTER XXI 

The red breasted robin is flittin and bobbin 

Because he is near ready to fly 

To the land that he knows is made green by the snows 

That are melting 'neath a clear blue sky. 

We, the passengers of the steamer Santa Ana, 
enjoyed a ride on Prince William Sound, during the 
balmy days of the spring of 1902. Alaska's spring 
does not come " creeping," as described in our old 
school books, but with soft-footed fleetness, it laugh- 
ingly bursts upon and overwhelmingly envelops 
you. " This is when daylight absorbs the night, and 
transforms it into balmy loveliness, and with arms 
affectionately entwined, wields a magic wand, while 
all Nature laughs in gleeful responsiveness." 

The balm of Gilead buds its leaves, the devil club 
opens a beautiful sombrero above its base deceptions; 
the skeleton-looking alder on the hillside changes 
its color to that of a deep tangled wildwood, where 
broad leaves tremble in wild fandango to the soft 
music of the breeze. Blooming flowers among the 
green, chase the receding snow up the mountain sides 
to where the silvery fountains murmur applause, as 
they coquettishly glance down at you, far below. 

On that summer's trip into the interior I fell into 

259 



260 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

BJ ■■■■■ « - i ».m. BM— ict j i iii i m «ii- ii n il, ii. i a— Mill apg-l 

company with several men, among whom were the 
Miles brothers, who were going in to photograph 
scenery, Indians and immense copper properties 
for Mr. Millard and others. The first day out, I 
attempted to knock off a horse's shoe with my jaw, 
and the effort put me to sleep for two hours, and 
fractured that part of my personal property. I 
subsisted on soup, while many incidents of the trail 
passed by as dim dreams. 

We crossed the Copper River and spent several 
weeks camping at the base of Mt. Wrangell, puffing 
from its top great clouds of smoke and steam, — 
mostly steam. Once, with a powerful binocular I 
saw a considerable area that was bare of snow, on 
the west side of the mountain; and among the 
broken rock masses there spouted steam jets, or gey- 
sers. The Indians claim that this mountain was 
once much higher than at present and this is cor- 
roborated by its flat, level summit, and also by 
the fact that its height is to-day about 2000 feet 
lower than when first officially reported. The crater 
is a flattened area, about five or six miles across, and 
for months there is but a small barren area where 
the geysers spout. 

I have seen great puffs of black smoke arise from 
it, indicating the falling-in of the sides to some great 
depth. It is reasonable to suppose that the moun- 
tain side would settle, as its interior was consumed. 

We bartered with the Indians and photographed 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 261 

them while they grunted and made faces at us; and 
camped on the bank of the Kuskalina River, where 
the colossal monument of Mount Blackburn was 
plainly visible. Here an anticline afforded so much 
interest to the prospector, with its lime and copper 
deposits, that I remained to prospect, and bade good- 
bye to the others, who proceeded on their way. 

After prospecting a week I mounted my sad- 
dle-horse, and with the pack-horse following, started 
for the Nizina country. At the source of the Laka- 
naw River hundreds of mountain sheep were to 
be seen, like white specks clinging to dizzy heights. 
At Fourth-of-July Pass I ascended a mountain for 
the purpose of photographing a bear. After I had 
returned to camp, and had knocked a black gnat 
off of my eyebrow, I realized that I had failed be- 
cause of her eagerness to place herself between me 
and her cubs, and because in doing so her actions 
had indicated that she intended to examine my kodak. 
With a snort of defiance, she came on with a rush, 
and I, accepting the challenge for a foot-race, left 
that vicinity in great haste. I had been three hours 
climbing up that mountain, and now descended it in 
three minutes. As I was hungry, and desired to re- 
turn to camp anyway, it is probable that I broke the 
record in rapid mountain-descent. For a week I 
camped at the Big Springs, near the Kenekott glacier 
— a prong of the Wrangell system of glaciers, ex- 
tending far back among the mountains. It was five 



262 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

^ ^ ^ — ^ — ii^— 

miles wide and continued that far below my camp. 
It would repay any admirer of sublimity capable of 
roughing it, to travel thousands of miles to see it, 
and when the railroad is built into the Bonanza cop- 
per mine, near by, it will be one of the greatest at- 
tractions for all northern tourists. It is a canyon 
filled with clear blue ice, and possesses yawning cre- 
vasses and frowning precipices. 

With all this coldness so near, the weather was 
warm, the birds sang in the near-by trees, flowers 
bloomed and the horses fed on luxuriant bunch-grass. 
A few scattering spruce trees grew on the adjoining 
foot-hills, and high pinnacled mountains formed the 
background to the northwest, where variegated min- 
eral ledges and dykes always will tantalize all pros- 
pectors who chance to camp in this picturesque lo- 
cality. I prospected there, dug holes and returned 
to camp tired, but mentally interested and keen for 
the experiences of the morrow. 

Just across that glacier was where Clarence War- 
ner and " Arizona Jack " Smith discovered the 
greatest copper deposit ever naturally disclosed to 
the eyes of man. Seeing a green area high on the 
mountain, they climbed until nearly exhausted to 
reach it, and at last stood speechless when they found 
that patch of verdancy to be copper chalcocite and 
bornite — any prospector would have been speech- 
less at such a discovery. They felt as if their minds 
had wandered to some mineralized fairy-land. Jack 




-fe- 
ci 



■3 



hi 



. Trailing and Camping in Alaska 263 

climbed to a pinnacle of copper and sat down upon 
it, to overlook the scene while recovering his speech. 
When it came to him he soliloquized : 

" By all the mineral gods of these eternal hills, as 
this is the mother of all copper I christen her 
1 Bonanza' ! And by the permission of the mineral 
god of the north, she shall ever reign supreme ! " 

When returning to camp Jack again regained his 
speech enough to say: 

" Clarence, it's no use to look for more copper — 
WE'VE FOUND IT ALL/" 

The photograph here submitted shows the man on 
the pinnacle and the Kenekott glacier five miles 
wide and 4000 feet below. The white shown on 
the ice at the right is snow that will, in that low alti- 
tude, melt off before the close of the summer. 

Valuable property always is coveted by others, 
and more than $100,000 was subsequently spent in 
defending the title to that discovery. I am credit- 
ably informed that the lowest expert report placed 
on ore in sight at that place was $25,000,000 in 
value. This is but one of a hundred valuable copper 
deposits in that Chitina country. While these moun- 
tains are not so diversely mineralized as the Alaskan 
Range, yet it is a most wonderful copper country. 

When the Indians gave that tributary of the Ahtna, 
known as Copper River, the name of Chitina, (Cop- 
per River in their language) they gave to Ameri- 
can posterity a name that always will be familiar. I 



264 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

believe if the copper deposits of this Chitina coun- 
try were opened to the world's markets, and all other 
copper mines closed down, the demand for copper 
could be supplied by that part of Alaska alone. Ow- 
ing to the exceedingly high value of the ore, which 
is mostly chalcocite, bornite and native copper, 
Chitina could furnish the metal at a figure that would 
allow of the plating of every ship bottom, and the 
roofing of every mansion with this valuable metal. 

If it be not bottled up by a railroad company that 
is only interested in the development of its own prop- 
erties, that country is destined to produce the bulk 
of the copper used. Its copper zone extends east- 
ward through Wrangell mountains to White River 
and the White Horse countries ; and westward to the 
coast and the islands of Prince William Sound, and 
along the Kenai and Alaska Peninsulas as far as 
Chignik Bay. While the ores of the coast are of a 
lower grade, generally being chalcopyrite, their ac- 
cessibility admits of their rapid development. 

Just below the Big Springs, I met " Arizona Jack," 
the discoverer of the Bonanza mine, and I requested 
him to point out its location. 

" Thar she are," he replied, " just across the gla- 
cier thar ! and by the eternal Pokie Moses, she hasn't 
moved an inch since I first found her ! " 

The trail descended alongside of the glacier, and 
then led up over morainic hills, above where the 
Kenekott River boils from beneath the glacier like 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 265 

an artesian well. Two more high summits were 
crossed; two more lonely camps were made; the 
Nizina River was forded and I was standing beside 
the rich sluice boxes of the Chititu (Copper water). 
This is a very good gold-placer camp. 

From the source of the Nizina River, Rohn and 
McNear started, in 1899, on tne reckless undertak- 
ing of crossing the Wrangell icefield — the most ex- 
tensive in the north— over to the Tanana. For fifteen 
days they traveled and slept on ice, ate frozen food, 
suffered with snow blindness, and wandered among 
crevasses, accomplishing in the end one of the most 
daring feats ever undertaken. 

The report of that journey was printed in the 
public document entitled, " The Copper River Ex- 
ploring Expedition of 1899." 

Sharp mountain peaks stick out of that icefield 
and on them can be found mountain sheep and ptar- 
migan. Its sixteen lobes of ice extend down to the 
valleys and form the sources of as many rivers. 

For days I traveled alone, ate ptarmigan, and was 
often rain-chilled. On my return I again fell into 
company with the photographing party, and on Nug- 
get Creek we were photographed beside a large nug- 
get of pure copper metal that evidently weighed 
many tons. 



CHAPTER XXII 

My horses will be grazing in the twilight of the sun, 

And by the camp fire's blazing, where the glacier rivers run, 

My tent ropes will be swinging, for I'll there unroll the 

pack, 
And listen to the singing of the white bird's call, " Come 

back!" 

On my return, I separated from my companions 
again in order to travel and prospect alone. A cold, 
dismal and rainy night came on, and to avoid camp- 
ing near some very repulsive-looking Indians, I made 
a forced march to another locality. I crawled on 
my hands and knees in the dark, feeling for the 
trail, as it was leading along a bluff, iooo feet above 
the canyon, and by it I was to descend. 

Unfortunately, one of the horses caved off an 
embankment and tumbled and rolled down about 
a hundred feet into a side-gulch. I turned one horse 
loose and spent some time descending to the other, 
which was found lying on his back in the bottom of 
the ravine. I rolled him further down, took off 
his pack and found that he had not even been 
scratched. It is remarkable how far a mustang will 
roll and tumble, with a pack beneath him for pro- 
tection. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 267 

Spreading a " tarp " (canvas) over the packs, I 
unrolled my sleeping-bag and soon was ensconced 
comfortably therein, while it rained and the horses 
looked for feed. The next morning I discovered that 
I had slept on a ledge of copper ore. This has since 
been developed and sold to some New York pur- 
chasers. 

A few days later, I left my camp, traveled over 
moss-covered ground, beneath shady forest trees, 
ascended above timber line, and at noon was on the 
summit of a high rocky ridge. From that place the 
horses, feeding near camp, looked like small specks, 
far below. Summer was kissing the northland its 
lingering farewell. While looking on the beautifully 
mottled picture of the valleys my attention was at- 
tracted to a near-by scene, across a defile, not a hun- 
dred yards away. There stood a big-horn sheep, 
but he quickly ascended a steep incline and passed 
over the ridge. Then a smaller one appeared in 
view, from around a sharp point, and attempted to 
follow; but a bullet from my automatic pistol broke 
his back and he rolled down on a shelf of rock. 
There was a fragrant odor arising from my camp, 
after that, and it was neither from spruce hen nor 
ptarmigan. 

How cruel is man! I well remember killing my 
last antelope, an event which happened in California. 
It looked up, and its pleading eyes and its bleat for 
mercy at the finale caused me, then and there, to 



268 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

resolve never to kill another antelope. This reso- 
lution has been sacredly observed. 

Right here, let me make a statement about wild 
animals with a view to correcting a few false opin- 
ions that have been formed by books of fiction. The 
danger of man's being attacked by wild animals is 
not nearly so great as is generally believed. The 
ridiculous statements in regard to their furious dis- 
position are as false generally as a recent fiction about 
a dog killing a bear. No dog that ever walked on 
legs could kill a full-grown wolverine, much less a 
bear. 

In Alaska there are grizzly bears of various colors. 
The white tip ends of their long hair along the neck, 
shoulders and back gives them a silvery-tinged color, 
and consequently they are referred to as the " sil- 
vertip grizzlies." One writer has said that we have 
no grizzlies in Alaska, but that they are brown or 
cinnamon bears. Another says we have cinnamon, 
black, silvertips and grizzlies. To the experienced 
hunter that statement is positively ridiculous. The 
cinnamon brown and the blue and even the silvertip 
are the color distinctions applied to the grizzly bears. 
The glacier bear is not always blue, but frequently 
is of a creamy yellowish color. I never have seen 
the real brown species in Alaska, but believe it to 
be there, and am told by reliable hunters that it is 
to be found on the Southeastern Islands. All brown 
bears that I have killed were brown silvertipped 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 269 

grizzlies. The grizzly bear has a hump on his shoul- 
ders, — at least it appears as such, but that is only 
the long hair and the height of his shoulder-blades. 
He has longer claws even when a little cub, than has 
the full-grown black bear. The American black 
bear will readily climb a tree, but a grizzly does not. 

When the Pacific Coast grizzly is annoyed by 
mosquitoes he will fight a windmill, or even the great 
American, Mr. Roosevelt. A man who would take 
a cub from its live silvertipped grizzly mother would 
require a headboard inscription to tell his friends 
about it. I have seen a bear with one brown and 
one black cub, and both were grizzlies. There are 
many American black bears along Alaska's coast, 
and they are harmless. 

To the long-clawed, blunt-nosed, humpbacked, sil- 
vertipped grizzly I take off my hat, or jump from 
under it. He is a king among beasts. He may run 
away to-day, and fight to-morrow, as he is governed 
by moods. Like all semi-carnivorous animals, even 
man, he is more disagreeable when eating meat than 
at other times. One should not rush too sud- 
denly upon a bear that is eating fish, nor should one 
ever go between a grizzly bear and her cubs. 

A bear will not lie in wait in a cowardly manner, 
but squarely meets an opponent and, unless first badly 
enraged by having been hurt, he never touches an 
enemy after knocking him senseless. Of course, a 
very few exceptions may be admitted, as we are in- 



270 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

clined to generalize too much instead of individual- 
izing when describing wild animals. 

The bear is the most honorable fighter among wild 
animals, and experienced hunters entertain respect 
for him because of these principles. It is reasonable 
to suppose that the disposition of wild animals would 
change when in captivity. The practice of telling 
children that bears will eat them is as ridiculous as it 
is false, for they do not eat human beings. I have 
awakened in the morning and found near my bed 
their tracks that had been made during the night, 
but as not one in one thousand would disturb a man 
when asleep I thought nothing of it. The Pacific 
Coast grizzly, that has roamed from Mexico to 
Alaska, often measures more than twelve feet long, 
and is much larger and more dangerous than the 
little Rocky Mountain grizzly. 

Mr. Grant Chase, who now lives in Seattle, has 
killed a great many of both kinds of bears, and his 
list includes an Alaska grizzly that measured nearly 
14 feet from tip of nose to tip of tail. That bear 
was as large probably as two full-grown Rocky 
Mountain grizzlies. I have heard of bears that 
measured more than 14 feet in length. The picture 
here represents a photograph of a skin from one that 
was 12 feet long and weighed 1200 pounds without 
the blood. This was taken in the camp of L. L. 
Bales, on Alaska Peninsula, and affadavits as to the 
weight of that bear can be obtained. Mr. Bales 




I ■ 



7 -t 
a 



<o 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 271 

claims that the condition of the bear could have 
easily been improved to the weight of 1600 pounds, 
as he was not fat when weighed. 

There appear to be two distinct kinds of grizzlies ; 
one with a long and straight head and the other with 
a shorter but wider head, and with a depression 
below the eyes. Owing to the fact that these latter 
root or dig with their noses after chauce root, they 
have the nose very blunt sometimes, and therefore 
the hunters refer to them as the " Hog-nosed " griz- 
zlies. 

That kind of a grizzly, when met with, ignorant 
of the consequences of an encounter with a white 
man and his improved guns, is very dangerous. It 
is probable that no less than 100 men have been 
killed by the Pacific Coast grizzly during the last 
fifty years. 

Writers of fiction have given out a false education 
and have caused many pitiable cowards. I have 
known men, old enough to know better, remain 
awake all night because of the howling of wolves 
near by. Wolves are afraid of man. Once I found 
the body of a man who had been dead for weeks, 
where wolves had beaten a trail around the body, 
and although the shredded clothing indicated that 
they had snapped that close, yet the body was un- 
harmed. 

I have shot a wolf from my bed upon awakening 
in the morning. With revolver in hand, I have ap- 



272 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

proached, by the light of the moon, near to where 
their howling sounded as if there were a baker's 
dozen of them. Although I ran short distances, and 
acted as if I were afraid of them, I could not per- 
suade one of them to come nearer to me than twenty 
steps, and those were Alaska gray wolves, too. 

No doubt hungry wolves have followed people 
for the food they were carrying, and those people 
have fully believed that they were after their per- 
sons. It is very probable that the peasants of Rus- 
sia, who had no other weapons but whips and fire- 
brands, did train many packs of wolves to follow 
them in that way, and, of course, any lone traveler 
would have been in danger from those particular 
packs. Naturally, the more wolves there are to- 
gether, the more courageous they become, and there 
is real danger from very large and hungry packs. 

Wolves do worry the large animals, however, and 
they weaken moose by not allowing them to eat, 
until by the aid of starvation they are enabled to 
cut their hamstrings and let them down, when the 
killing of the moose is easily accomplished. 

A mountain lion, or any of the panther species, 
will not prowl too near a man, even at night-time. 
They will come within thirty or forty steps of one, 
if there be fresh meat at that place, and I have heard 
them snarling when gnawing bones that near to 
camp. There is positively no danger to grown men 
from panther or lynx unless when they are defend- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 273 

ing themselves or their kittens. Women or children 
may be attacked by them. A lynx sprang upon a 
woman who was in a milking corral near San Diego, 
Cal., in 1869. One of Mr. Balanger's daughters 
was in like manner attacked while milking a cow in 
San Luis, Obispo County, California, in 1884. Mrs. 
Julia Holloway, now living near Bakersfield, in that 
State, was attacked by a small lynx, or bob-cat, and 
managed to beat it to death with a rock, after being 
badly bitten and scratched. The lynx is much braver 
than the panther, although he is smaller. 

It is probable that I have kicked one hundred 
lynx out of trees to be killed by dogs. Sometimes, 
if you are climbing up directly under one, he may 
jump on you, but only after giving you warning by 
growling. I have seen one large lynx whip six dogs 
to a standstill, but that was because the dogs knew 
not how to kill a lynx. After he had done that, my 
little black-and-tan hound, although much smaller 
than the lynx, bravely walked in and had the lynx 
kicking his last within a minute of time. 

While I am describing wild animals, I will say a 
word about the fox. Eastern hunters will laugh at 
any one who says a fox will climb a tree. That is 
because the eastern fox does not climb trees. 

The California fox climbs trees, and this fact can- 
not be denied. Even after I had killed many foxes, 
I thought that they only managed to ascend the trees 
by jumping from limb to limb, but afterwards I 



274 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

found that my hounds put them up trees that were 
straight, and that they climbed forty feet from the 
ground before they found a limb on which to rest. 

The wolverine is the most peculiar animal of all. 
When he desires to be, he is just as sly and cunning 
as the panther, yet, when emboldened by eating meat, 
he appears oblivious to danger, and will stand by 
the side of a dead animal's carcass and growl, while 
a man walks within a few steps of him. He is re- 
markably vicious and puts up a very bad fight when 
cornered. He can whip a whole pack of wolves, and 
it has been said, and I believe it, that he can whip 
the little American black bear. 

A peculiar incident happened here in my camp, 
and as it refers to a wolverine, I will here relate it. 
I had thrown the neck of the sheep on the ground, 
but a few paces from the foot of my bed, and re- 
tired to sleep with my head much higher than my 
feet, so as to command a good view of my surround- 
ings. Unfortunately, I was traveling without a dog, 
as I had sent little Pete down to California. This 
no one should do when frontiering alone, as a dog 
is a very useful companion. 

When awakening the next morning, what should 
I see standing at the foot of my bed but a wolverine. 
He was showing his white teeth, looking at me, and 
with his long red tongue licking his chops in what I 
construed to be a menacing attitude. As his large 
vicious-looking yellow eyes gazed squarely into mine, 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 275 

instinctively I closed my hand upon my bedfellow 
friend, the pistol, and slowly raised it until the sights 
passed up between the nostrils, then followed up to 
the brain. Immediately there was a report and a 
dead wolverine in camp. 

For some time I lay there trying mentally to 
solve the mystery, and finally succeeded. It was 
evident that he was not thrusting out his tongue and 
showing his white teeth as a hostile demonstration 
towards me because I had awakened, as first I was 
led to suppose, but because he had just been tearing 
the meat from the sheep-neck near by, and was then 
contemplating an attempt to secure some more meat, 
which was hanging to a limb near my head. It 
was the taste of meat and his eagerness for more 
that had caused his boldness. Whatever may have 
been his peaceable intentions, his attitude, his wicked 
yellow eyes, his white teeth and his long red tongue, 
had all contributed to emphasize one of the scenes 
that I shall never forget. 

The horses gave their bells an extra rattle, about 
two hundred yards from camp, then they could be 
heard approaching. Horses that have been used 
for hunting take a human-like interest in such things, 
and show inquisitiveness. When they arrived in 
camp, the smell of the wolverine made them so rest- 
less that they were saddled with difficulty. 

After breakfast, I mounted my saddle-horse and 
with pack-horse following, proceeded on my way. 



276 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

About two miles from there I met two Indian squaws, 
and when they were told where they could find a 
dead wolverine, they hurried on with the prospect 
of obtaining the skin. The Indians place a high 
value on the skin of the wolverine, as they claim that 
it is the only fur on which the breath will not freeze. 
With it, they border-fringe the parkie, where it is 
worn near the face. 

Upon arriving on the bank of the Copper, the wind 
was blowing harder than I had ever experienced it 
in that country. It was a long time before I could 
attract the attention of the Indians on the other 
side of the river, as they could not hear the firing 
of a gun so far across the wind and water. Finally 
they came down to the bank, launched a canoe, and 
in a short time the horses were swimming for the 
other shore, and we were paddling in pursuit. 

I found a cabin in which I was sheltered for two 
days, while the wind blew trees down near by. Old 
Doctor Bellum, an Indian doctor, came in and en- 
tertained me for hours, narrating interesting details 
about his people's traditions and superstitions. He 
told of the war with the Tananas; how one night 
the Tananas quietly came down the river, and at 
daylight disclosing themselves in battle array, began 
firing on the Ahtnas. They killed about forty of 
the Copper River Indians, but the remainder re- 
treated to the wood, deployed in the mountain passes, 
and killed thirty of the Tananas on their return. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 277 

He said the breath of Mount Wrangell (Una- 
letta) was poison; that the smoke from its crater 
once descended and killed several Indians when they 
were sitting around their campfire, near the mouth 
of the Tulsona, and that the Indians had accused 
him of causing the catastrophe. He employed Una- 
letta's smoke, he said, as a threat to control bad 
characters ; and he informed me that Chief Nicoli had 
once sent six Indians up to examine the crater. That 
had happened " eleven snows yesterday" (1891), 
and they had not yet returned, but " may-be-so some 
time come back." Four others had gone in search 
of the six, and two of them, while looking over into 
the crater, had fallen dead from the effects of the 
poison they had breathed. Then he talked of the 
superstition of the Indians, and said they believed 
that he could look right through them and discover 
their wickedness. 

Presently another tall Indian came in and intro- 
duced himself as Eselota, whereupon Bellum mod- 
estly retired, possibly because he knew Eselota was 
somewhat of a liar himself. As Eselota wore a long 
beard and had the features of a white man, he was 
asked if he were not partly Russian. He seemed to 
entertain doubts, unless his people had come from 
Russia long before the other Russians had known 
of the country. He said his people, the Suslotas, 
were all as tall as he, and wore long beards. Twenty- 
four Russians, he declared, had once ascended the 



278 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Copper River on the ice. They were so abusive that 
the Indians had been compelled to kill them in their 
camp, near the mouth of the Tazlina River. They 
had knocked the Russians in the head with rocks, 
while they were asleep, but had let two of them 
escape to tell the others, so that the Russians never 
again would molest the tribe. 

This statement was corroborated by an old Rus- 
sian who claimed that he was one of the two men 
who had been released. This old man died recently 
at Tatetlik. 

Those Indians seemed very much attached to their 
3000 acres tract of river-bottom land, and the gov- 
ernment should protect them in their ownership of it. 
Their little homes and sacred graveyards should be 
insured against the white invaders who are disposed 
to divest them too often, not only of their property 
rights, but also of their morals. 

When I rode up the trail that ascended the escarp 
of the river's deep channel, I paused and looked back 
on that almost unknown little valley and wondered 
if those clay banks could talk, what stories of life, 
romance and death they could relate. 

That summer had been an unlucky one for I had 
arranged to accompany the Indian, Gokona Charley, 
to a great copper deposit. He had failed to appear 
the year before, because of sickness in his family, 
but as they had all died, he was now left alone to 
disclose the secret. He was willing to do so on con- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 279 

dition that if it were worth it to me, I should take 
him out of the Copper River country, so that he 
would never see it again. We were to meet on 
August i, but on the way to our appointed ren- 
dezvous, he was drowned in the Tazlina River, 
on July 28. The secret was lost, and so was 
an Indian friend whom I had known for four 
years. 

I had often noted his tracks and those of his 
family as they moved from one hunting-ground to 
another, and had seen their abandoned camps, where 
in their all-too-brief period of childish happiness, 
his little ones had built playhouses (wickiups) . 
Charley had watched his children die, one at a time, 
and then had seen his wife succumb to consumption. 
With loving hands he had laid her to rest beside 
their children, and with tearful eyes had followed 
the lonely trail leading away from their decorated 
graves, never to return. 

The great Mongol Emperor, Shah Jehan, of In- 
dia, erected the Taj Mahal, the most costly bejeweled 
tomb on the globe, to the memory of his beloved 
wife, Queen Muntazi Mahal. He did all that he 
could to express his grief, yet he did no more than 
did poor Gokona Charley, for he, too, did the best 
he could. 

Several persons lost their lives exploring that sum- 
mer: Thos. Conally was drowned in the Kotsina 
River; Horace Tuffin and Mr. Riley had been frozen 



280 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

to death during the previous winter, and a few were 
drowned in the Chitina. 

One day I heard shooting at intervals a short dis- 
tance ahead, and presently saw seven rabbits hang- 
ing to a tree. Those Rocky Mountain snowshoe 
rabbits were quite plentiful, but an Indian could kill 
a dozen of them while an average white man was 
killing one. Stealthily following, I soon came upon 
an old Indian, with a boy walking behind and drag- 
ging two rabbits by the heels. Presently, as the old 
Indian approached a patch of brush, he stopped 
and began to make a peculiar noise ! then bang ! went 
the gun and over tumbled a rabbit. As I came up, 
I laughingly said that I knew how it was that an 
Indian could kill more rabbits than a white man. He 
replied : 

"White man, he no sabe how to call 'em. Me 
know how to talk rabbit-talk." 

The trail, on my return, was lined with stampeders 
for the Nizina country, who made their poor horses 
carry packs as far as they were able to go, and then 
shot them or left them to starve. I found one ex- 
hausted horse lying in the trail in such a place that 
it was necessary to shoot him in order to pass by. 
While he struggled in death his body went rolling 
and tumbling down one hundred feet into the Tekeil 
River. 

The Geological Survey boys that season had about 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 281 

finished up their work in that part of the country. 
Too much credit cannot be given to Schrader, Brooks, 
Mendenhall and others for their industry in map- 
ping the land; and to M. P. Ritter and others of 
the Geodetic Survey for their diligence in charting 
the waters of our northern possessions. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

A philosophical Indian once described the world as an 
animal, vegetation as hair, all living things as vermin, and 
a volcano as a " sore place." 

Those Indians, commonly called Sticks, should 
bear their original name of Ahtna. Their name of 
Stick was evidently derived from the English word 
stick, which they apply to forests, trees and logs, 
and the definition of the name, as applied to them, 
is " Woodsmen." Sub-chief Stickman derived his 
name from the fact that he built a log cabin in which 
to live, in preference to the uncomfortable tepee. 

Their real, or former, name was Ahtna, but 
whether or not they are related to the Ahtnas of the 
upper Frazer River, and the Apaches of Arizona, 
who possess a part of their vocabulary, probably 
never will be known. 

These Indians will steal only when driven to it 
by starvation. Like all Indians, they were better 
before the whites discovered them than after 
they have accepted the white man's vices and re- 
jected his virtues. Their deplorable condition seems 
to be the result of natural inclination. 

An old Indian seemed very much disappointed 
when he was informed that the military would not 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 283 

employ Indians to work on the trail. He said he 
preferred that the Indians should work for what they 
got, rather than to obtain it by begging. A few In- 
dians earned a livelihood by running ferries across 
the rivers, but white men secured licenses for that 
privilege and took the industry away from them. 

An old Indian once explained to me that his father 
had lived and died on the spot he was then occu- 
pying, and there he intended to live and die. Six 
months after that some white men took possession 
of his sacred spot and drove him farther up the 
river. It is the same old story of the white man's 
injustice to the Indian — a story which should bring 
the blush of shame to all Americans. When those 
Indians discover that they are discriminated against, 
they become discouraged, mean and sullen. Intellec- 
tually, the Copper River Indians are superior to any 
other Indians I have ever met. They are quick to 
learn, and are naturally musical and also humor- 
ous. 

While an Indian's humor is of a quiet and grim 
sort, it often means much. Once a companion of 
mine was fooling with a crowd of them, and play- 
ing a few of his many tricks. He had a sewing 
machine bobbin and around it he had wound about 
thirty feet of silk ribbon. He placed this spool in 
his mouth when unobserved, and began to pull out 
the ribbon, an inch at a time. The Indians swarmed 
around as he slowly unwound it, until he had piled 



284* Trailing and Vamping in Alaska 

up about twenty feet of ribbon, when one of the In- 
dians approached me and said: 

" Say, you come look see ! White man hiyu (very) 
sick!" 

" No, he no sick," I replied. 

"You say he ha-lo (not) sick?" he asked. 

" Yes, he ha-lo sick," I answered. 

" All right, he ha-lo sick, by and by he make 'em 
blanket!" replied the Indian, as he solemnly re- 
joined the spectators. 

These Indians dig a wild parsnip root they 
call " chauce," and it is their only farinacious diet. 
Often during the long winters they consume all their 
supplies of " chauce " and dried salmon, and are 
then compelled to subsist on the inner bark of trees, 
the juices of which they swallow. It may be that 
this is the prime cause of the black vomit which, 
they claim, has killed off so many of them during 
the last fifty years. The last appearance of that dis- 
ease was among the Indians at the source of the 
White River. It was always fatal, causing a destruc- 
tion of the mucous membrane of the stomach. How- 
ever, their having eaten the inner bark of trees may 
not have been the cause of the black vomit, as that 
custom has been general among all Indians through- 
out the timbered regions in the United States. It 
is more probable that it was caused by the sudden 
change in springtime, from starvation to a period 
of gormandizing. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 285 

An Indian will not give anything to another's 
wife, not even something to eat; that is, he would 
not directly do so, but he might pass the article to a 
child to hand to the squaw, because the child is in- 
nocent. He believes that if he gave her anything 
directly, the action would bring down on him a 
spell of sickness, or that some harm would befall 
him. 

In more ancient times, their marriage ceremonies 
were accompanied with a feast given by the bride's 
parents, when the bridegroom presented them with 
all he could afford, to show to them his appreciation 
of their daughter. When the custom is now ob» 
served, the groom sings a verse of a song after 
the feast, pleading with the girl to go with him, as 
he has stored ample provisions for the coming win- 
ter, and is strong and willing to hunt, and to care 
for her when she is old. 

The girl then sings a song wherein she announces 
her parental love and her content with her existing 
conditions. Then he answers that his canoe is 
moored to the river bank, and if she had come with 
him their trip on the water would have represented 
their life together; but as she has refused, he will 
go down the river alone, and in his wickiup moan 
for the one he loves. 

He bids them good-bye and before he unties his 
canoe, he generally finds that she has followed him, 



286 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and in the moonlight, their friends from the shore 
watch the two paddle down the river together. 

Like some white women, the squaws wear rings 
in their ears, and often go their white sisters one 
better by wearing them in their noses. 

At one moment these Indians surprise you with 
their cleanliness by their regular bathing habits, and 
the next astonish you with their filthy ways. They 
carry a cud of tobacco in a little tin box. They will 
take this out and chew it for a few minutes, and 
then, if near a fire, they will roll it in the ashes and 
replace it in the box to absorb lye and strength for 
future use. Often this cud is passed around to 
others who may be present, but after they have, in 
turn, chewed the morsel, it is returned to the owner. 
An Indian child will beg for tobacco with as much 
persistency as a white child for candy. It is really 
from the Indian that we learned our tobacco habits. 

An Indian seldom has a plurality of wives, and 
when he does, he apologetically explains that the 
last one was formerly a wife of some friend who 
died, and that he took her to support until she had 
found another husband; but the fact is, she is gen- 
erally the one who does the supporting. 

When these Indians break up camp to go on a 
hunt, or to some trading-post, they indicate how 
many persons have departed and the course that 
they took by sticking a pole in the ground for each 
person, and leaning it in the direction he has gone. 





Trailing and Camping in Alaska 287 

To each pole is attached a remnant of some mascu- 
line or feminine wearing apparel to indicate the sex 
of the person it represents. Age is indicated by the 
length of the pole. 

A cache post, or the surface of an old tree near 
by, may be found marked with charcoal, or a lead 
pencil, if they should be fortunate enough to have 
one, bearing such a diagram as the following: 



-**.i:iL-±-_ 



This would mean that a man with a gun, a squaw, 
a little girl and a dog had left the bank of the river, 
when the moon was half full; that their first day's 
travel will terminate on the bank of a creek, where 
they will camp on the near shore; that their next 
day's travel will terminate on the bank of another 
creek where they will camp on the opposite shore; 
and that at noon of the next day, they will make 
their final camp at the foot of the mountain. 

These leaning sticks are generally left at every 
camping place along their trail, for the edification 
of other Indians. This explains what puzzles many 
white men, and that is: how the Indians are so well- 
informed about the movements of parties of white 
men as well as of Indians. If an Indian were in 
your camp, and knew of your number, it is proba- 



288 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

ble, if afterwards you secreted yourself near your 
old camp, that you would find the Indians placing 
some mysterious stick in the ground near the camp 
or your trail. 

The Indian maiden, when approaching maturity, 
is ostracised as an unclean thing. She is then com- 
pelled to wander alone, and obtain her own living 
in the best possible way. Edibles are occasionally 
left where she can find them, but nothing is given 
directly to her. She is not allowed to accept any- 
thing from the hands of another, and must cook 
everything she eats. This brutal custom of driving 
the poor girls out in inclement weather is shocking. 

One of the old customs of these Indians, when 
approaching another's camp, was to fire as many 
shots as there were numbers in their party. In 
those days, when they had muzzle-loading rifles, it 
indicated that their guns were unloaded and they 
were peaceable. Owing to the white man's disre- 
gard for those signals, and his refusal to answer 
them, the custom is now about obsolete. 

The moccasin of the Tananas has a square heel- 
tip that leaves its impression in the track; the Cop- 
per River Indian moccasins have two, and the 
moccasin of the Shusitnas has none. By the tracks 
of the Indians, they can tell to what tribe they be- 
long. The interior Indians plainly articulate their 
words, and their language is easily learned, as they 
name animals and birds by the noises that they make. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 289 

They name sheep "tobah"; goat, "tobay"; wild 
geese, "honk, honk," and the little red squirrel 
" klinket." 

They show respect for the dead by fencing in 
their graves and placing crudely constructed crosses 
over them. Articles that were once the property of 
the deceased, and little playthings of the children, 
are placed on the graves as tokens of respect and 
lingering affection. The old squaws occasionally 
wail for the dead, just as the Digger squaws used 
regularly to do in southern climes, where I heard 
them when a boy. Their wailing was a regular oc- 
currence between sundown and dark, and created a 
lonely feeling in me that reasserted itself when the 
occasional moan was heard away up there on Cop- 
per River. 

One evening I had seated myself on the grass- 
covered ground, near a large boulder, on the bank 
of that river to enjoy an after-supper smoke. The 
river boiled, curled and murmured, only about twenty 
feet below. The last rays of the summer's sun 
were kissing the tips of the mountains a lingering 
good-night. Soon, from far away down the river, 
was heard that lonesome wail, which has probably 
gone up from that river-bottom for a thousand 
years, but here, as in other places, it is nearing its 
last echo. To me it came with a poignant sugges- 
tion of my vanished boyhood. 

Suddenly a grunt from an Indian was heard, onl^ 



290 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

a few feet away, and looking round, I discovered 
one of the most intelligent of his race. I invited 
him to sit down, whereupon I handed him an extra 
clay pipe, a package of tobacco and a bunch of sul- 
phur matches. Sulphur matches are the only kind 
the hunter will carry, for the wet ones can be dried 
readily by giving them a few strokes through the 
hair, and can then be lighted. That is why they are 
so popular in the west. 

When he had filled the pipe, he offered to return 
the tobacco and matches, but the offer was refused. 
That wail had put us upon the natural level of com- 
radeship, and the tobacco was accomplishing its 
share. I desired that he should talk and impart in- 
formation about himself and his people. One must 
give an Indian time to commence to do that, even 
under favorable conditions, and it was hoped that 
the gift of tobacco would be conducive to that end. 

The old Indian had smoked but a few puffs, 
when he laughingly compared the smoke of his pipe 
to that of the Unaletta volcano which was in plain 
view. He asked about the Indians away off in the 
white man's country, and appeared to be surprised 
when he was told that the Indians and whites lived 
in the same vicinity. He said he thought the In- 
dians were all dying off to make room for the white 
man. He informed me that once there were 1500 
Indians between Tonsina River and Copper Center, 
a distance of about twenty miles, but that now there 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 291 

were less than one hundred. Formerly they could 
kill a moose whenever they wanted it, while now 
there were very few of them to be found. 

He was a fatalist, and believed it was the destined 
plan of the Great Power that the Indians should 
give way for the whites. He said he could " feel 
it." To explain his position as a fatalist, he assured 
me that if we could have looked ahead correctly a 
year before, we should have seen ourselves sitting 
by that rock at this time. He said if we could look 
ahead, we could tell when earthquakes would occur; 
that if we could look into the future we could see 
the little babe grow up, follow its wanderings until 
its death, and then, if we watched the child's life, 
that it would be just as we had seen it — it would die 
just the same way, and no human power could 
change it. The individual might think he could do 
as he pleased, but he was only doing what was pre- 
destined for him to do, and he could not help it. 

That untutored savage could have entertained 
our civilized philosophers, but he would certainly 
have collided with some of the modern free-moral- 
agent theories. 

He described how his people once had made axes 
out of stone, then later out of native copper. He 
said that they could harden copper fairly well with 
an application of urinal ammonia, but the process 
was tedious, and moreover the ax was not as serv- 
iceable as the white man's steel. 



292 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

He explained that the Indians were compelled to 
hunt for a living and had not the time to improve 
themselves like the white people, but he wished they 
could read and write. He said that the children 
would learn to do so, if the Great Power so destined 
it. All Indians believe in an occult power. He 
thought that his people once had occupied the whole 
land, but the fish-eating Siwashes had come and 
driven them back from the coast. He could under- 
stand the language of the Tananas, Shusitnas and 
the Yukons, as their languages were similar to his 
own. It is reported by explorers in the Hudson Bay 
country that the Indians up there talk the same lan- 
guage, or nearly so, and it is possible that this old 
fellow's conclusions were correct. He had traveled 
some, and said he had been over twice to the Yukon 
country, and had seen the Japanese there. 

" Jap, may-be-so he my cousin ! " he added. 

He told me of his tribe's superstitions and 
laughed at their foolishness, the same as the white 
men laugh at lucky horseshoes, and four-leaved 
clover. He explained how the squaws made charms 
with beads and ptarmigan wing-bones, to wear when 
going on a dangerous canoe voyage. These they 
call " ha-lo calepie," which, when literally trans- 
lated, means " no upset." The Indian sweat-baths 
he informed me were a sure cure for rheumatism. 

He said the ptarmigan sometimes increase to such 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 293 

numbers that the country was unable to support 
them, and that at such times they would fly away to 
other localities. This statement is supported by the 
fact that those birds once flew across the Yukon 
.River in such great numbers that a steamboat's pas- 
sengers were enabled to kill them with clubs. He 
said that rabbits also increased too rapidly for their 
sustenance, and that then they would die off. He 
denied that they died at definite periods, and ridi- 
culed the saying that rabbits die off every seven 
years as a silly tradition of the squaws. 

I asked him why it was that so many of the In- 
dians of the Pacific coast buried their dead facing 
the setting sun, as I had noticed that custom along 
the coast as far south as Mexico. 

" Me no sabe," he answered. " May-be-so one 
time all Indians' home that way, and when Indians 
die they look back to old home." 

There, that was a statement worth something. 
Then the old Indian rested his head on his hands, 
as if in deep reminiscent thought. If he were now 
living a reincarnated life of his ancestors, what a 
history he could tell of battles, hardships and death 
which had accompanied their immigration into that 
country ! When he resumed, it was not of the past, 
but of the future. He arose and stood in a com- 
manding attitude, and motioning his hand from 
west to east, exclaimed: 



294 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" Indians come! " 

Motioning from east to west he continued: 

11 White man come ! " 

Then in apparent exultation and great joy he 
waved both hands in the air and exclaimed: 

" Bye-and-bye, all Indians come back — all come 
back! White man die." 

I never shall forget the apparently inspired ex- 
pression of his countenance when he made that 
prophecy. There is really no yellow race, but the 
red race in Japan, China, Korea and Siberia num- 
bers nearly 500,000,000, and there is no race sui- 
cide there. The reward of conquest over a weak, 
wealthy, but intelligent nation, which may be the 
final destiny of this, would be so great, with the 
accumulated wealth in the hands of a few, that re- 
sistance to temptation may be discontinued, and 
instead of China being dismembered for spoils, his- 
tory may repeat itself, and in the words of this old 
Indian : 

II Bye-and-bye, all Indians come back!" 

Such were my thoughts as the old Indian sat 
smoking his pipe. When he saw that I had recov- 
ered from the reverie, he announced that he was 
not superstitious, and for an Indian he was an ex- 
ception, yet even he related how the spirits went 
with the winds and made nocturnal visits to their old 
hunting-grounds. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 295 

Then the lone wail was heard again from away 
down the river, and that interesting child of the 
forest said " Chinan," (thanks) for the pipe and 
tobacco, bade good-bye and silently made moccasin 
tracks down the trail. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

When on the trails as brothers they have fought the rapids' 

wrath; 
They've heard the wails of others as they fell beside the path; 
They've danced with death a-swinging, as they climbed the 

mountains high; 
Where north winds were a-singing they'll as brothers live 

and die. 

I spent the summer of 1904 on the head-waters 
of the Tanana River, and it was an outing in the 
fullest sense of the term. Except my companion, I 
saw no human being for three months. I hung up 
my broad-rimmed white hat, when on Jack Creek, 
and dug from my clothesbag a black, narrow-rimmed 
misnomer. I did that because four years before, 
while wearing a similar broad-rimmed hat in this 
vicinity, I had been chased and nearly caught by an 
enraged grizzly, and if we should meet again there 
was danger of being recognized by him, if seen 
wearing the same kind of headgear. 

I was fortunate in having an interesting conversa- 
tionalist for a companion. That is a happy faculty, 
whether natural or cultivated. I have known per- 
sons who had so diligently cultivated that trait that 
they could distinctly say the words " yes " and " no," 

896 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 297 

and I always enjoyed looking at their backs as they 
departed. 

My companion was a very agreeable fellow as 
well as an humorous one. He wore a red bandanna 
handkerchief around his neck, red whiskers on his 
chin, red freckles on his nose and red hair on his 
head. He said he was naturally a born leader of 
men, when they were on a retreat. He claimed that 
self preservation was one of the cardinal traits of 
his character. I was perfectly satisfied to risk my- 
self with him in the wilds, and that is where one 
should have a man on whom one can depend. 

I ascended a mountain to locate the noonday rest- 
ing-place of some mountain sheep, and a few were 
seen, but too far away to secure any that late in the 
day. On the way back, in a wide canyon, I met 
three full-grown grizzlies, and bravely placed my- 
self in seclusion while they passed to my windward. 
Of course I was not the least bit embarrassed, but 
while counting my five rounds of ammunition, I 
counted three cartridges and five bears. It would 
be cruel to separate the bears by killing only a few 
of them ; besides, there might be bears right in camp 
at that moment destroying things. I resolved to go 
right there and defend that camp with my life, if 
necessary. It is some consolation to me, even at 
this day, to know those bears never saw me. 

My companion, Mr. Howard, about 1 1 P. M., 
came walking up the creek bottom looking for me, 



298 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and among the willows we nearly ran against each 
other. The next day, he, armed with a 30-30 rifle 
and I with a pistol, returned up the mountain and 
succeeded in placing ourselves in front of some moun- 
tain goats. While in a deep gorge, an old Billy 
with his whiskers " gave a sly glance at me," from 
the side of a precipice. In endeavoring to draw a 
white bead on a white goat, with a white cloudy sky- 
line for a background, he was missed at no greater 
distance than sixty yards. At that time, my partner 
was busily engaged in holding a dog (not Pete), 
which was possessed with a delusion that he could 
chase all mountain goats out of Alaska. We suc- 
ceeded in killing two, which was all the meat we 
wanted at that time. It was a sight to see one of 
those I shot, after he had climbed to a great height, 
then to come tumbling down. It is little trouble to 
get within range of mountain sheep and goat if one 
be skilled in hunting them. It is the novice, killing 
for sport, who climbs, sweats, and worries and de- 
clares that they are always inaccessible. What fun 
the sheep do have with those fellows! 

About a month later, when riding along a sheep 
trail on a steep mountain-side, I rounded a sharp 
point and met a large female grizzly. She stood 
up on her hind feet and appeared interested, while 
that horse proceeded to exhibit his athletic abilities 
for her amusement and my discomfort. I tightly 
held the horse while he turned round and round, on 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 299 

that high, narrow trail. He did this about one 
hundred times, which enabled me to count as many 
bears. Of course this is a rough estimate, but one 
should be conservative when telling of bears. Be- 
fore there was time to pass the hat, the audience 
left, the horse ceased performing, and his rider 
began to dimly realize that he had been turned 
around so many times it was with difficulty he could 
determine the direction to camp. He felt satisfied, 
however, that he owned the greatest trick horse that 
had ever performed before an Alaskan audience. 

Others, that summer, did not have such agreeable 
experiences with bears. Some prospectors on the 
Tanana found the dead body of a man near the foot 
of a tree, and in his hand was the following note: 

" To folks at home. I have met my fate. Good- 
bye and may God care for and bless you all. Was 
hunting and wounded bear. It has killed me. Good- 
bye, 

"Alonzo Cheswith." 

At one time we were camped on the trail that leads 
from Mentasta to Bachulneta by way of Suslota, 
when a coyote appeared near by, then another, and 
they all carried packs. That was sufficient reason 
for suggesting the advisability of placing the coffee- 
pot on the fire to assist in making a bluff at feeding 
Indians, for they were sure to be there. In a few 
minutes, our camp was alive with vermin and In- 



800 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

dians, while dogs whined to be unpacked, squaws 
begged for food, and men for tobacco. After two 
hours' rest, they left as they had come, in a straggling 
manner, probably one hundred yards apart. 

The next night, about two o'clock in the morn- 
ing, we heard the call of a night-bird, apparently 
near by; this was answered over on another hill, and 
that indicated the oft-heard signal of the Tananas. 
I quietly slipped out in the dark and listened, and 
again it was heard, farther away, and this time it 
was answered from along the trail ; so it was plainly 
an Indian call, and not that of a night-bird of the 
feathered kind. 

Those Indians had done right in going around the 
camp of the white man, for a tenderfoot might 
have shot an Indian at that time of night, if he had 
discovered him near his camp; — there is always an 
uncanny feeling that passes through one's anatomy 
when that call is heard. 

The next day we passed Indian Albert on the 
trail, and after satisfying his request for tobacco, 
we continued on our way and presently heard the 
same bird-call from a thicket, two hundred yards 
to one side. Before I had recovered from the 
amusement of a night-bird calling at mid-day, the 
answer was heard from Albert, away down the trail. 
The first was not intended for the white man's ears, 
and in that case, no doubt, emanated from Albert's 
bodyguard. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 301 

If, when camping among those forest denizens, 
you happen to explain to a tenderfoot companion 
that these calls, or plaintive tremolos, which sound 
from the dark recesses of night, are aboriginal sig- 
nals, then that tenderfoot needs a sedative for his 
nerves. You will not be annoyed by his snoring dur- 
ing the rest of that night. He may previously have 
been the embodiment of inanition, but the spell will 
be forever broken while on the trail, and henceforth, 
when in the wilds at night, he will ever be on the 
alert, and his stare into darkness will indicate nur- 
tured animation, apparently conserved for that par- 
ticular occasion. 

A young Indian approached our camp, on Chicka- 
men Creek, carrying a twenty-pound pack, and sup- 
porting besides the ponderous cognomen of " Bob." 
With inimitable gestures he assured us that he knew 
of a dry trail leading to Mentasta, which avoided 
the bosky swamp country of the Slahna bottoms, 
with their innumerable muskrat ponds, lakes and 
sloughs. In consideration of his services as guide, 
we consented to carry his pack on a horse, and also 
recklessly attempted to satisfy his omnivorous ap- 
petite from our commissariat. His boasted knowl- 
edge of the way proved so unreliable that the final 
result was a halt in the midst of a swamp. While 
one man smoked the mosquitoes from the poor 
horses, I looked along the edge of the mountain for 
solid footing, and the Indian searched towards the 



302 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

river. When the Indian returned from his futile 
search, he answered our queries with an impotent ges- 
ture, spreading his fingers, and profanely qualified 
his statement thus : 

"Trail no good! May-be-so good for salmon, 
dat's all!" 

We swam our horses across an outlet of a lake, 
and took them where one would think it impossible 
to go. As night approached, we came out on the 
green flat at the outlet of the Mentasta lake, where 
was the village of Chief John and his tribe. While 
preparing camp, we were surrounded by Indians of 
all sizes and descriptions, and, as usual, they begged 
for " tobac." The old chief " pot-latched " us five 
white fish, fresh from the lake. That senile chief, 
who was broad-shouldered, slim-legged and dressed 
in buckskin, extended this courtesy — not with be- 
nevolence as an incentive, but to obligate us to return 
the favor as many times as our patience would per- 
mit. 

My companion was droll as well as congenial. 
He remarked that he believed he could walk across 
a creek on a log, but while attempting it he fell into 
the water up to his neck, whereupon he added: 
" I've changed my mind! " 

He possessed the happy trait of never becoming 
bewildered. It is very trying to travel in a wild 
country with a companion who is constantly getting 
lost. The majority of those who lose their lives do 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 303 

so by first losing their desired direction. A member 
of a party with which I was traveling once in the 
Copper River country had no sense of direction, be- 
cause he was born that way — it is a natural failing — 
and was lost almost constantly. He would feel lost, 
probably, if enclosed in a corral. There was but one 
smoking mountain to be seen, but he found dozens 
of them. Whenever he saw that mountain from a 
new position, immediately he recorded the discov- 
ery of another volcano. We humored this fellow, 
who was otherwise intellectually bright, by asking 
for a description of the last volcano, hoping he would 
discover that there was merely one, but it made no 
difference to him, for he continued to discover more 
smoking mountains with the evident purpose of 
breaking the record in that particular line. 

We rested one day on Indian Creek, and during 
the afternoon I took a walk down on the bottom, in 
search of a mess of spruce hens, thinking they might 
be found among the heavy timber. Instead of tak- 
ing a pistol that was large enough to kill anything 
I might happen to see, a small automatic 32 was 
picked up. I had gone but a quarter of a mile when 
I got a glimpse of a brownish-looking animal and 
decided that it was a yearling moose. 

A yearling moose was about our desired size, 
so, instead of returning for a larger pistol, I decided 
to crawl through the brushy undergrowth, as near 
as possible to the place where the animal stood, and 



304 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

then slip a few bullets into the heart cavity and get 
my moose by tracking him a short distance. 

The moss-covered ground enabled me to arrive 
at the place unobserved, but when there, as I arose 
and looked around, not a thing could I see. Be- 
cause the wind had been in my favor I was satisfied 
that the animal had not been frightened, but where 
it had vanished was a mystery. I stood beside a 
large tree, so as to be less likely to be observed, and 
was quietly waiting for the hunted one to make a 
move, for I was not entirely sure that it was a 
moose. 

Presently, a large brown silvertip grizzly bear 
arose from lying flat on the ground, not thirty paces 
distant. He sat up on his haunches and scented in 
the direction of camp, and while doing so, he quietly 
held the butt of his ear for me. At that moment, 
the idiotic strain which runs through my composi- 
tion asserted itself, and I could not resist the temp- 
tation to satisfy my curiosity in regard to what 
effect that little hard bullet would have upon him. 

The missile was properly despatched to the exact 
spot, at the butt of his ear ! Then, shaking his head 
and emitting a savage growl he rushed towards me, 
on his back track, like a whirlwind. I dropped to 
the ground like a dead 'possum — and dared not 
move, for any attempt to climb the tree would have 
been disastrous. At the rate I was shrinking up, 
I could have disappeared into a squirrel hole in a 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 305 

few minutes, but it was only a few seconds before 
he had passed within a few feet of me, and the way 
the brush popped, one would have thought it a six- 
horse team running away with a wagon-load of 
loose poles. If an inexperienced tenderfoot had 
committed that foolish act, he might, after proper 
treatment, have been pronounced harmlessly sane; 
but as for myself, I returned to camp with a pro- 
found feeling that my case was hopeless. 

On our return, we saw matured oats and barley at 
the United States Experimental farm at Copper 
Center, and also a vegetable garden at Tonsina 
River. 

There are thousands of acres along the river bot- 
toms of the valleys of central Alaska which will 
some day repay the tiller of the soil. These are 
the warm sedimentary soils. There are also thou- 
sands of acres of rolling foot-hill land where grow 
luxuriant bunch-grasses, on which live stock could 
fatten during the summer months. The interior 
is cold, but the absence of wind makes it more de- 
sirable for stock-raising than many of the northern 
States. The length of the winters is the greatest 
obstacle. Horses have wintered there, but they re- 
quire to be in good flesh when turned out, in order to 
keep them warm, but they come out in the spring in 
very good condition. The annual snowfall is light 
in the interior, only amounting to about two feet, 
and often less. It is necessary to place the ground 



306 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

in good condition before sowing cereals, and the 
Siberian seed is preferable. 

Relatively speaking, of the country as a whole, 
there is a very small area that could be made pro- 
ductive, because hundreds of square miles are cov- 
ered by swamps, lakes and sloughs. There are also 
hundreds of square miles of cold clay land which 
are covered with moss and scrubby spruce, on which 
it would be difficult to raise even a disturbance. The 
valleys are so extensive that productive localities 
may at some future time supply the home market 
with meat and vegetables, a time predicted to be in- 
evitable. Grain hay can be grown, and it can be 
cured in the interior, but it would be impossible to 
cure it on the coast because of the moisture. Red- 
top grass grows to prodigious height on the coast, 
while in the interior the grass is short, although 
more nutritious. The summer seasons along the 
coast are much longer, and better vegetables, espe- 
cially potatoes, can be grown there. 

The descent of the Coast Range was accom- 
plished in a cold rain, this being the usual thing in 
September. While plodding along in the rain and 
mud, I wished sincerely that some kind friend would 
rope me and take me to a place where prospecting 
was prohibited by law. After a good square meal 
at the Camp Comfort roadhouse, however, and 
while enjoying the warmth of a good fire, I found 
myself endeavoring to determine into what locality 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 307 



I should venture the next year. The hosts at Camp 
Comfort always succeed in making the place con- 
form to the significance of its name, and through 
their hospitality the prospectors associate good old 
Camp Comfort with the most pleasant memories 
of that trail. 

The habit of prospecting, when once diamond- 
hitched upon a man, becomes a mental disorder. 
Only one in fifty finds pay for his hardships, but 
he has the consolation of striving for the cleanest 
money at large, and he knows when he gets it that 
he has not robbed another, legally or otherwise. 

The illiterate man is usually the best assistant on 
the trail; as his mind is not filled with tangents or 
co-tangents, wise sayings of Shakespeare or the great 
statesmen. In consequence, he remembers what he 
did with a rope, just where he laid the ax, how many 
knives and forks the crowd started with, the brands 
on the horses, and when he last heard the bell. 
This all sounds ridiculous, but if I were choosing 
a good campman, I should prefer that his education 
were limited, so that he could remember the little 
things and not be concerned about his grammatical 
expressions. 

There are diamond hitches, forward and back- 
ward — big diamond, little diamond — square knots 
and granny knots, walnuts and loops, and there are 
hobbles and side-hobbles, blinds and cinches, pan- 
niers, pack-saddles and aparejos. No; with too 



308 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

much of other kinds of knowledge he cannot attend 
to all that properly; he becomes lost — forgets how 
to do things, and cannot recall where he has put a 
very insignificant but now all-important buckskin 
string. A deep-thinking, wool-gathering philosopher 
would be a decided failure as an assistant on the 
trail. 

My companion was a contrast to the above, but 
he had had a lifetime of experience. His well- 
flavored camp stories were just about as long as a 
cigarette, and he was one of the best automatic and 
continuous entertainers I have ever met. He made 
a few locations, and afterwards he remarked that 
it was astonishing how good they looked to him after 
drinking a bottle of champagne; at such times and 
under such conditions he always raised their valua- 
tion. 

An incident happened on this coast that summer, 
which is worthy of mention. A Mr. Howard was 
suffering with a hand that had been mangled by a 
charge from a shotgun. In his remote camp, Mr. 
Glendenning, an experienced Alaskan who had 
toured the coast alone in a row-boat, amputated the 
man's arm with a razor and an old meat-saw, and 
the crude operation, without anaesthetics, was a de- 
cided success. 

While the whistling north winds played through 
the trees and told me of cold on the glacier, I sat 
by a warm fire and thought of the insufferable heat 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 309 

— M^ M^ —————— — ^— ^— 

of the deserts, plains and canyons of lower latitudes, 
and also remembered the damp and clammy fogs 
of the southern coasts, that chill the bones of the old, 
dampen the ardor of the young, and invigorate the 
moss on the houseroofs; wherefore I realized that 
all climates are imperfect. 

Once more, I was back on the coast with another 
batch of doleful reminders of the trail — the sound 
of owl-hoots, the flickering of dying campfires, the 
mire of the swamplands, and the rain, mudholes 
and misery. It would be consistent if I were to 
change my name to that of " Misery " and come 
up there to live, devoting my days to the life of a 
prospector. 

The vernacular of the prospectors awakened me 
to my surroundings, for my ears rang with such 
apellatives as "Oklahoma Bill," " Alganik Bill," 
" Staghound Bill," although my appetite suggested 
duck-bills, and my pocket-book the many bills I had 
to pay. Then I lapsed back into dreams of such 
ungainly things as pack-saddles, sling ropes, diamond 
hitches, mantas and ponchos, while it rained and 
poured. 



CHAPTER XXV 

From the days of the mastodon the wolverine has defied 
his enemies, and his animal contemporaries have respected 
his prowess. 

The summer of 1905 was spent among the high 
peaks, the roaring waterfalls, and the extensive gla- 
ciers that border Prince William Sound. My com- 
panion and I found ourselves once between the 
prongs of a canyon and looking dizzily over the 
edges we could see narrow, wild torrents, hundreds 
of feet below. The October night had settled upon 
us. The rain had poured down all day, and in addi- 
tion to being drenched to the skin we were cold, 
tired and hungry; moreover, we had to face the fact 
that it was necessary to return to the head of the 
canyon and then cross a high mountain before we 
could reach our camp. 

We became separated in the darkness, but we 
bumped and felt our way up the mountain; then 
slipped, slid and rolled down through the brush and 
timbers on the other side. I stopped, entangled 
among the dead limbs of a fallen tree-top, and there 
built a fire and shiveringly steamed one side, while 
the other was being rained on. The wind blew 
down the mountain and penetrated my wet cloth- 

310 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 311 

ing, so that I really longed for a " tenderfoot " for 
company, that he might amuse me with his wail- 
ing complaints. The day dawned with more rain 
and wet brush, and I wondered if my companion 
had met with more favorable experiences. 

About ten o'clock I approached our camp to dis- 
cover my companion coming to meet me. He had 
traveled all night. About midnight he had rolled 
down an embankment, caught at alders, and finally 
letting loose of them, had continued rolling, until 
at last he had stopped at a soft mossy place. He 
had lost his hat, and every loose article about his 
person, except a wild duck, and as he had not eaten 
anything for twenty-four hours, he immediately de- 
voured that duck raw, wondering, as he sat in the 
cold drenching rain, whether I were enjoying as good 
a supper. 

When afterwards we looked at the draw, through 
which he had fallen, we saw that if he had de- 
scended at a point fifty yards on either side, he 
must have fallen to the bottom of a three-hundred- 
foot precipice, and, as he expressed it, " no doubt 
the duck would have been more or less damaged." 

We enjoyed a few sunshiny days of the kind that 
cause one's thoughts to wander around and become 
lost in heaven, because of the kindness of the ele- 
ments. It was on such a day — the kind to make 
one forget one's debts, that I lay down in the tall 
grass and counted fifteen waterfalls that were de- 



312 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

scending from a glacier on a shelf, about iooo feet 
above. 

While enjoying that scene, my attention was at- 
tracted by a large grizzly that arose from his bed 
in the grass and turned broadside, not more than 
one hundred yards away. Immediately I sent a 
pistol ball through his heart cavity, whereupon he 
emitted a savage growl, galloped a short distance 
and lay down for his last long sleep. Then another 
arose, much nearer, and stood on his hind feet, look- 
ing around for the cause of the report. My part- 
ner came over the ridge just at that moment and 
we both opened fire on that second one, and it was 
while tracking his blood-stained footprints that we 
discovered some copper ore. This we located, nam- 
ing it the Wounded Bear mining claim. The bear 
descended to a glacier where the track was lost, and 
it is probable that he died among the crevasses. 

When I was traveling on a glacier, about a week 
after that incident, I saw a wolverine approaching 
at a gallop. As he stopped and turned to examine 
something, I sent a bullet that mangled his heart 
and caused him to jump up and fall over. When 
I approached him he was gasping his last. That 
accidental pistol-shot was one of those that are liable 
to inspire one with too much confidence in one's 
shooting ability, as the distance was 154 steps. 

That wolverine weighed about fifty pounds. He 
measured four feet from the end of his nose to the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 313 

tip of a twelve-inch tail; his neck was sixteen inches 
in circumference; his leg was only ten inches long, 
and his fore-arm was nine inches around. I should 
describe him as a big-necked, canine-toothed, large- 
eyed, and long-bodied animal with two short legs 
on each end. His flesh was composed of hard blue 
muscle, and his head was protected with a roll of 
the same impenetrable material. Because of this 
fact trappers often declare that they cannot kill 
a wolverine by beating it on the head with a club. 
A knife-fight with two common American black bears 
would be preferable to a like contest with one wol- 
verine. 

The wolverine is one of the most interesting of 
America's carnivora. He is not only American, 
and has attached his name to that of the Michi- 
ganders, but he has mingled his bones in almost 
all countries with those of the mastodons and other 
gigantic mammalia which lived thousands of years 
ago, in the dim past. His ancestors were common 
before there was a London or a St. Petersburg. 
With his surprising strength and sagacity, he has 
stood, and still stands, defying all enemies, even 
twice his size, to mortal combat. A whole pack 
of wolves will slink away cowardly from his pres- 
ence, and a dog! why, a dog readily recognizes — 
by intuition, as it were — the mortal enemy of his 
ancestors, for the very scent of a wolverine's skin 
will cause him to hie away, bristling, barking and 



314 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

growling, into seclusion. " Old Brigham," a well- 
known dog in Valdez, went completely back on me, 
fell three feet off a sidewalk and ran home, simply 
because he scented the fact that I had skinned a 
wolverine. The proper name for a wolverine is 
the hunter's appellation of " skunk bear." 

My dog Pete displays good canine judgment when 
hunting, but draws the line on prospecting. When- 
ever I wash a pan of dirt, he looks into the pan, 
and then wonderingly at me. When I change to 
breaking rock, he smells the broken fragments, then 
closely fitting his tail in its natural trench, he walks 
over to one side and sits down, with the look that 
plainly says : 

"My Master has 'em ag'in! " 

Fish are almost too plentiful in Alaska to write 
about. In the early springtime, hundreds of tons 
of little candle fish and herring can be seen. The 
candle fish is a little hard roll of fish oil. The old- 
timers along Alaska's coast used those little sardines 
for candles, by sticking the mouth of the dried ones 
over a nail, usually driven into a table for the pur- 
pose, and then setting fire to the tail, which would 
burn and furnish light until the entire fish had been 
consumed. That is why they are called candle fish. 
These fish run in February and March, and are 
found as far inland as Mentasta Lake. They can be 
fried in their own oil, first starting the oil by im- 
mersing the fish in hot water. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 315 

Salmon ascend the rivers and streamlets in such 
numbers that where they are stalled by a dam, or a 
waterfall, they are found by the ton. They ascend 
little streams along the coast, where often they can 
proceed but a short distance from tide-water, yet 
there they stop, die and rot. They have lived in the 
sea the prescribed four years, and now are return- 
ing to the sparkling fresh waters of their youth to 
spawn and die. 

Once we visited the Orca cannery, when it was said 
that there were 36,000 salmon lying on the wharf. 
We watched a Chinaman with a spiked pole sling- 
ing the salmon up a chute, where another grabbed 
and dexterously beheaded them with a knife. The 
remains of the salmon were shoved up to another 
Celestial, who, in like manner, cut off the tails, and 
to another who severed the fins. We watched a 
salmon grow smaller, slip into a cleaning vat of hot 
water, come out and go into a machine that cut it 
into can-length pieces; then saw the machine ram 
those pieces into cans and cup the lids. After that, 
the cans were rolled down a chained run-a-way over 
a blaze of fire and under a stream of solder, and 
then into a basket, which was lowered into boiling 
water that did the cooking. Then they were set 
aside, labelled and boxed for shipping. 

There was one of our number who was addicted 
to the dangerous habit of playing with statistics. 
He was so much inclined that way, that we generally 



316 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

referred to him as " the computer." That great 
display of salmon induced him to produce his pencil, 
and he began figuring. Presently he accosted us 
with the question: 

" To say that this Company has caught ten mil- 
lions of salmon would not be unreasonable, would 
it?" 

" Certainly not," I replied. 

"Well, to say that they averaged two feet in 
length would be just as reasonable, wouldn't 
it?" 

" Yes." 

" Now, if ten millions of salmon were trans- 
formed into one, it would mean a fish twenty mil- 
lions of feet in length, would it not?" 

I committed the fatal error of agreeing to this 
also, and he continued: 

" A fish that measures twenty millions of feet 
would be a little over 3700 miles long, but we can 
afford to throw off a few feet when we have so much 
fish in warm weather. Now, if that fish hooked his 
gill on Cape Cod, on the Atlantic coast, he could 
wipe San Francisco off the Pacific coast, with his tail, 
and he would measure so large around the shoul- 
ders that there would not be another man put off 
at Buffalo for some time ! Of course I have nothing 
against San Francisco, besides San Francisco 
wouldn't mind it much, as she is used to such things, 
but it just shows what the fish could do if old Cape 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 317 

Cod could stand the strain; besides, gentlemen, fig- 
ures won't lie ! " 

One of the men employed there came to my res- 
cue by remarking: 

" No, but liars will figure ! " 

Alaska has sixty-six canneries and eighteen salt- 
eries with an annual output valued at $11,000,000. 

The autumn of 1905 settled in with the usual 
regular rainfall, and prospecting was exchanged for 
the more comfortable accommodations of a Valdez 
hotel. Several old pioneers assembled here to pro- 
cure their winter supplies, and among them was one 
who deserves especial mention, — the noted German- 
sen. 

There he sat, " doubled and folded," Lincoln- 
like; long, sinuous and slender, the result of a life- 
time spent in the wilds. Germansen had been a 
child of the wild, a man of the wild, and now in his 
old days the fascinating phantom still invited him 
with a beckoning call. His kind, honest face inspired 
one with confidence, and his striking personality 
proclaimed him to be one to " tie to." 

Many pioneers have followed Germansen, for 
he had led the van of the northwest pathfinders, 
years and years ago. Look on the map of the 
Canadian Northwest Territory and you'll see Ger- 
mansen's Lake and Germansen's Landing. He was 
the first to cross from that country to Fort Simpson, 
away back in 1868. The life story of that hardy 



818 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

pioneer is an interesting narrative, and in answer 
to my request for it, he untied a few knots of him- 
self, drew his brawny hand across his forehead, and 
began : 

" Well, it doesn't amount to much, but it is his- 
tory. I was born in Waukesha County, Wiscon- 
sin, in 1843, on tne s * te °f an °ld abandoned In- 
dian village, and in the sight of an Indian tepee, 
and I have been in sight of them almost ever 
since. 

" I fought for the Union, but was discharged for 
injuries received on Shiloh's dark and bloody ground. 
I fought the Sioux with Generals Sibley and Sully. 
I once swam a horse across the Yellowstone River 
and then across the Missouri to get to Rock Fort 
Union. I was an Indian trader from 1865 to 1867, 
and dealt with the Blackfeet, Pegans, Bloods and 
Crees. I left St. Cloud for Winnipeg, where I pro- 
cured fresh cattle and proceeded with the first emi- 
grant train to Fort Edmonton. There were 500 
carts, 700 half-breeds, and three white men, — 
Boyd, John Beaupre and myself. 

"Again I started out to trade with the Indians, 
and employed Hugh Morrison, a man with a Black- 
foot wife, who had lived with the Indians for forty 
years. We came upon an Indian town of about 
three thousand souls, and, as my hair was red and 
long, they looked upon me as a freak, which I was. 
They swarmed around and grunted astonishment 




James Germansen 

{at the time of his narrative) 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 319 

and awe as they ran their fingers through my scalp- 
lock. 

' The price of a buffalo robe was two cups of 
flour, and it was but a short time until our carts 
were loaded down. When I was ready to leave, 
Chief Maxipeta (Great Eagle), kindly offered me 
my choice of his six wives, and insisted that I 
should take a certain pony-built one, but I declined 
the offer on the ground that I was too young. This 
incident caused an enmity towards me that prohib- 
ited me from returning to that village to trade. 
The old chief, however, warned me to look out 
for roving bands of his young Indians who were 
then on the warpath with the Big Knives, (Montana 
miners). 

" We arrived safely at Fort Edmonton, and a 
few days later, ' Dancing Bill ' (Tom Latham) , 
an old California pioneer, came into camp and de- 
manded flour; and although he had no money, he 
said he was going to have it. He wore two six- 
shooters and just took what flour he wanted. In 
about two weeks he returned, paid me in gold dust 
for what he had taken, and demanded more grub. 
He turned out to be a first-class fellow, and just 
lousy with gold dust. 

" The ' Breeds,' as they were called, gave dances; 
the fiddler played to step dancers, who would 
bow and dance until exhausted, when another 
would take his place. The good dancers were show- 



320 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

ered with moccasins and beaded presents by the 
squaws. This Tom Latham was a great clown, and 
he confided to me that he was going to show them 
a new ' Walla Walla ' step and a ' Hangtown ' jig. 
He did, and coming in late he danced until the 
fiddler became exhausted. The squaws looked upon 
this as such a feat, that they loaded Tom down 
with enough moccasins to last him through life. 
From that achievement, he got his name of ' Danc- 
ing bhi; 

" My acquaintance with * Dancing Bill ' and his 
partner, ' Black Jack' (Tom Smith, of Baltimore), 
broke me financially and transformed me from a 
trader into a prospector. I furnished an outfit of 
fourteen oxen, two cows and seven horses, loaded 
with supplies, for a trip through the Peace River 
country. We left Fort Edmonton on April 5, 
and arrived at Fort Dunvagan on September 15. 
There had been no frost, and the country at that 
time was a vast flower-garden. There we wintered. 
The next summer we ascended the Peace River, 
made the Rocky Mountain portage, and mined on 
Upper Peace, Sandy Bar and Findley Branch, wash- 
ing out an ounce per day to the man. The next fall 
we arrived at Caribou, passed up Parsnip River to 
the Salmon River portage, and descended Frazer 
River 140 miles. I mined at Caribou in 1869. 

" Oh, yes! I didn't tell you about my first bear! 
Well, I just rolled over Bruin and then, boy-like, 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 321 

laid the gun across my arm unloaded, and leisurely 
but foolishly approached for an inspection of the 
trophy. Well, sir! That bear just rose up with a 
snort of blood and began to plead his side of the 
question with a charge ! Say, I, — ha ! ha ! — I — I 
just left there ! " 

Then the narrator arose, and rubbing his legs, 
stepped very high, while he crossed and recrossed 
the room, as if to get them in good working order 
to demonstrate the long steps he took when fleeing 
from the bear. Then, after shaking off a convulsion 
of laughter, he continued: 

" You should have seen that clown of a * Dancing 
Bill ' the winter we trapped ! He volunteered to 
go to the creek and set my traps for a beaver, while 
I prepared breakfast. Now, he had never set a 
trap in his life, but he declared that he could do 
it." 

v Again my informant stopped to laugh, and as he 
did so he buttoned up his coat, then unbuttoned it, 
doubled with his head between his knees and laughed 
some more. 

" Well,' 1 he continued, " it was but a few minutes 
until \ Bill ' had returned with his hand beneath his 
coat and solemnly announced: 

"'I caught him!' 

"'What! caught one already?' 

"'Yep!' 

" Then Bill withdrew his hand from beneath his 



322 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

coat and there was the trap attached to three of 
Bill's fingers. I laughed so that it was with diffi- 
culty I could release his hand. 

" He attempted once to ride a toboggan down a 
steep hillside. The toboggan went over into Peace 
River, and Bill was stuck head-first into a snow 
bank. I could just see his feet when I commenced 
to dig him out. He got up and shook himself, and 
said: 

" ' I always expected to go to hell, but never once 
thought it would be done tobogganing ! ' 

" Dancing Bill joined a crowd of miners one 
night, with a bucket of black sand under his arm. 
He also had a handful of gunpowder, which looked 
like the sand, and he threw the powder on the fire. 
As it flashed up, he raised the bucket o.f black sand 
and began to pour it into the fire, yelling : 

"'Here I go, boys!' 

" Bill then quietly walked behind the bar and 
helped himself, as there was no one in the house 
to wait on him. 

" Poor Bill ! Years after that incident, when min- 
ing in the Cassiar country, on Liard River, he com- 
plained one day of being sick, and said to one of 
his partners : 

" ' Ned, I am going to die and I want you to 
bury me under that spruce tree, over yonder, as I 
have prospected there, and it's only two-dollar dirt, 
so the boys won't molest me.' 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 328 

1 ■ I ,- ,AL' , 1: 

" Ned laughed, as Bill walked over to his bunk 
and lay down with the remark that if only he had 
the old organ he had left at Wrangell he would 
play even with this world. 

" When Bill was called to dinner, a few minutes 
later, it was discovered that he was stone dead. 
This Tom Latham, or ' Dancing Bill,' was born 
on the Schuylkill River, Pennsylvania. But there, 
I am ahead of my story. 

" Once, when ' Black Jack ' and I were traveling 
ahead looking for a way, we came out on a small 
clearing where there was a little Indian town. It 
was Sunday, and the whole tribe was inside a large 
tepee, holding religious services, — a sort of Catholi- 
cism which had been introduced into the country, 
and which the Indians had brought into those moun- 
tains. ■ Black Jack ' and I sat down on a log near by, 
and listened to the singing. It sounded so homelike 
that Jack, although rough and uncouth, turned to 
me and said: 

" ' Jim, they are above us ! ' 

" Presently they came out and shook hands with 
us. There was one old man among them who had 
seen a white man. He surprised us by taking one 
of our guns and presenting himself in a military at- 
titude; he then explained that he was an Iroquois 
who had helped the British fight the Yankees; that 
he had come into the northwest with the Hudson 
Bay Company, and here in the Rocky Mountains 



824 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

had married a Stony squaw and had thirty descend- 
ants. 

"In 1870 I left Fort Frazer for Fort St. James, 
on Stewart Lake; ascended through the Arctic pass 
into the Omeneca country and there discovered the 
Omeneca, or Peace River, diggings, on July 13, 
1870. 

"On November 15 I arrived at the mouth of 
the Skeena River, on the shore of the Pacific at Fort 
Essington, after exploring a route from our dig- 
gings through a very rough country, where I saw 
the wildest-looking Indians I had ever met. They 
were very primitive, living with dogs and covered 
with vermin in holes or dens in the ground, which 
we called smoke-holes. We descended into one of 
those dens to satisfy our curiosity, and then climbed 
back again, out through a smoke-hole just as rapidly 
as three men could perform the feat." 

Here Germansen was seized with another spasm 
of laughter; and again he exercised and rubbed his 
legs, as though to keep them in condition for another 
emergency, if one should occur. He added: 

" You see, we had been invited to climb out by a 
very wild-looking fellow who held a large knife in 
his hand, and we didn't hesitate for a second invita- 
tion. Those Skeena Indians killed several explorers 
the following spring. 

" From Fort Simpson I took the Hudson Bay 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 325 

steamer Otter for Victoria, where we landed, De- 
cember 23, 1870. There I met Alexander Mac- 
Kenzie, whom I had saved from starvation at Fort 
St. Johns. He was a nephew of Sir Alexander 
MacKenzie, who discovered the great MacKenzie 
River of the north. It was this same man who had 
put the cattle that went wild on Queen Charlotte 
island. Speaking of that island reminds me that 
there was a forest of totem poles there, but the 
many hundred Indians who once lived there have 
passed from the earth. 

U I was in the Cook Inlet country in 1895. I 
hired two Indians to pack for me up the Matanuska, 
and we passed over to the Tazlina slope of the Cop- 
per River country where we killed a moose. I was 
told that the Indians would kill me, when I started 
on that trip, but I lived to follow the Yukon from 
its head-waters to the sea, and enjoy life on Middle- 
ton Island, the gem of the Northern Pacific Ocean. 
I tell you, Indians are not such bad people when they 
are treated right, but they have been terribly wronged 
by the white man. 

" Besides my life in the north, IVe mined in 
Montana, Colorado and California. Say, I believe 
I'll get two horses and spend next summer in the 
interior, as it is most too confining out there on the 
island. I am only sixty-two and a summer's outing 
would do me good." 



326 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

He then arose and crossed the room to inspect a 
map on which was marked " Unexplored Terri- 
tory. " 

And this was Germansen, a moral frontiersman 
with innate refinement; who never drank intoxicants, 
gambled, used tobacco or profane language — a mag- 
nificent type of the western pioneer. This is a bare 
outline of his wonderful life story. Imagine a sum- 
mer spent in the wilds of the Matanuska with no 
companions but strange Indians, and that only one 
of a life-time of such incidents. It requires great 
force of character to live the life that paves the 
way for empires, but the North possesses many such 
characters. Verily, truth is stranger than fiction! 

Three months after that interview James Ger- 
mansen died at Juneau. 




2< 






CHAPTER XXVI 

O, the days that we've numbered and the nights that we've 
slumbered 

In the lone valleys 'midst forests of thrills; 
Where the water was splashing with silver salmon s lashing, 

And the great bighorns looked down from the hills! 

It is not such a precarious pastime to glance back- 
ward over the summer of 1906 as were the real 
experiences. Yet it is not more comfortable than 
were the many pleasant evenings I spent at good 
old Camp Comfort roadhouse during that sum- 
mer. As this was only four miles from my copper 
locations, it was as a neighbor as well as a comfort 
to me when passing too and fro. 

It is a mental pleasure to me now to glance from 
the present back to the scenes which linger in my 
memory, and to see again those black, high peaks 
silhouetted against the northern sky; storm-whipped 
peaks kissed into forgiveness by warm sunshine while 
other storms raged below. Again I can see the 
mountain goat, away up yonder, clinging to preci- 
pices and life with his remarkable tenacity. And 
such a life! He seems to say, "Behold in Me 
misery incarnate ! " 

I will relate an incident which happened during 

327 



328 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

that summer because it may partly demonstrate to 
the reader their attachment to the miserable ex- 
istence they endure among precipices and snow- 
slides, summer rains and winter blizzards. 

I had crawled among a bunch of twenty-three 
of them, feeding on rolling hills, and as we were 
out of meat I decided to lay in our summer's sup- 
ply, then and there. Of course I should have 
" necked " them, or shot them through the top-shoul- 
ders, but did not know at the time that a precipice 
was so near. As they ran over a ridge I shot five 
through the heart cavities, expecting to find them 
lying along the trail of the others, but imagine my 
surprise, when following them over the ridge, to 
find a sheer precipice and not a goat in sight. 

By clinging to alder brush, I managed to look 
down over the precipice, and counted three dead 
ones which were lying on shelves and in inaccessible 
places. A large one, yet untouched by one of my 
bullets, was standing on the side of the bluff where 
his place of footing looked no larger than a saucer. 
The Wolverine glacier filled the bottom of the can- 
yon, directly below, and was about a mile wide at 
that place. A snow bank extended from the glacier 
to the wall of this precipice, a distance of about 
thirty feet. 

I decided to break that goat's neck and drop him 
down onto the snow bank, which was at least two 
hundred feet directly below. By approaching over 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 329 

the glacier, from the other side of the canyon, it 
would be possible thus to secure the meat. He was 
only about forty yards away, and nearly on a level 
with me. Crack! and he shot out of his niche in 
the wall, and descended like a bird, but when he 
struck the snow the impact caused it to give way, 
and I could hear that goat bumping down, down, 
down, under the glacier, and over other precipices 
beneath. 

I spent some time in looking over those rolling 
hills, hoping that some of them had not gone into 
the bluffs, but in vain. I then returned to where I 
had broken the neck of the one who was clinging 
to the wall, and behold! there was another one in 
exactly the same place. He appeared to be a year- 
ling, and had evidently emerged from around the 
wall, beneath me, having tracked the other to this 
place, whence further progress was an absolute im- 
possibility. 

As he was standing with his head from me, but 
looking at me, I decided to waste no more meat, but 
to sit down there and watch how he would manage 
to turn round and get back from that point. It 
Was a most interesting sight to observe how he 
humped his back into an arch, and held his head 
close to his side to prevent over-balancing and tum- 
bling to sure death, below ! I became actually dizzy 
while watching him work his body around, an inch 
at a time, until he had completely turned. Then 



330 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the danger was not over, for it looked to me like 
an impossibility for any live thing larger than a 
fly to return along the face of that precipice. He 
stood upon his hind feet and placed his front feet 
against the wall, by his nose, but apparently he 
could not discover any way above him to get out. 

Then he lowered himself, and intently scrutinized 
the way towards me. He was compelled to place 
confidence in my not hurting him as he should work 
his way along the face. Finally he lowered his 
head, craned his neck, and acted as though he had 
discovered a small jagged place which would hold 
his foot, while he should run a few steps. To halt 
anywhere short of twenty feet would mean destruc- 
tion, so he looked at me as much as to say, "Now 
please let me try this, for it's my only way out," 
then he made the rush. My heart beat more quickly, 
while he attempted the feat, but he landed where 
again he could stand, and then again he looked at 
me, seeming to say, "How's that?" 

It required at least half an hour for him to pick 
his way carefully, a step at a time, along that dizzy 
wall to a place directly beneath where I was sitting. 
I held on to an alder and peeped down at his back, 
not more than twenty feet away from me. I could 
have fastened a rope to the alders and have dropped 
a loop over his head, but if I had had the rope, I 
should not have done such a thing. No; for had 
we not lived together through a time when I had 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 331 

held my breath nervously with fear that he should 
lose his life? Now we were companions in danger, 
and nothing should tempt me to destroy his life 
after it had been so carefully preserved. I could 
have shaken his foot in congratulation for his suc- 
cess, and should have enjoyed patting him only too 
well. I returned to camp completely satisfied, so 
far as that particular goat concerned me. 

I saw eighty-three goats and fourteen bears dur- 
ing that summer. One unusual sight was a female 
bear with three cubs. It was interesting to watch 
her, as the correct control of such a playful family 
of three was evidently a task. Bears chastise their 
young, and often she gave one of them a slap to 
cause it to travel ahead of her. While two were 
rolling on an old snow bank, locked in each other's 
arms, the third would linger behind, apparently with 
no other purpose than to torment his maternal an- 
cestor. Finally she let the little fellows roll as far 
down the bank as they desired, and turned her 
attention to the third. It was really laughable to 
watch that little fellow attempting to run past his 
mother, to where he knew he belonged without get- 
ting a slap. I have seen the little American black 
bears slap their young, and drive them up trees 
when they scented danger. 

At another time that summer, I saw three bears 
across a canyon from our tent. I resolved to cross 
over, as two had turned back from their previous. 



332 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

course, and the third soon would be following in 
their tracks. I had just arrived within fifty yards 
of their trail when the third bear came along, just 
as expected. 

Four pellets, for that was all they were, were sent 
through his body. He attempted to ascend a bluff 
in a small gully, but was too weak and turned down 
the gulch towards me. The fifth shot was sent for 
the head, but it struck him in the eye, and, as is 
generally the case with a bear, that kind of a shot 
had no perceptible effect upon him. When he was 
about twenty-five steps away, and just as he had 
lowered his head, the sixth shot was squarely placed 
between the eyes, and a little above. That shot 
caused me to step to one side, to allow his body to 
roll by. He was not after me, particularly, but was 
too weak to climb the mountain. 

Valdez suffered considerably from the effects of a 
glacier flood that summer. A good portion of the 
town was washed away, and I watched one house — 
furniture, mortgage and all — go floating out into 
the bay. 

Several persons lost their lives in the interior. 
A very sad incident was the drowning of Jim Mont- 
gomery, with his wife and child. The child had 
been born in the wilds of the Tanana, while Jim 
was out hunting, and the only attendant had been 
an Indian squaw. They had concluded to cease the 
vigil they had kept for years on Montgomery's 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 833 

copper properties, and return to civilization through 
Skolai Pass and by the descent of the Nizina, Chit- 
ina and Copper Rivers. Their boat capsized in the 
Nizina River, and a wail went forth as the family 
drifted around the bend of the river. All were 
lost, except a Mr. Williams, who was also in the 
boat at the time, and who swam ashore. Some 
prospectors buried the bodies of the woman and 
child, but that of Montgomery never was found. 
Montgomery and I had descended the Copper River 
together in 1901. 

The other summers that I spent in Alaska were 
not devoted to hunting or prospecting, as my time 
was occupied in working my copper properties near 
the coast. Ben Price, a good pistol shot, killed a 
bear near my camp with his Frontier revolver at a 
distance of one hundred yards. It was during that 
summer of 1907 that a man shot down six other 
men from ambush in Keystone Canyon. This was 
done in a dispute over a railroad right of way, and 
in an effort to keep railroads out of the interior— 
that is railroads which would be going in for the 
purpose of becoming public carriers, and whose 
owners were not building the lines to their own 
properties. The present indications are that Alaska 
is destined to be bottled up for the benefit of a 
few. 

In 1903 seven persons attempted to float down 
the Nizina River in a small boat, and four of the 



334 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

seven were drowned. One woman swam down stream 
a long distance, but finally sank. A little boy wept 
when assisted into the boat, and he, too, was 
drowned. A man was going down the river on a 
raft with his two dogs. The dogs returned the fol- 
lowing day, but the man never was heard from. 
Another was drowned near Taral, and another lost 
his life in an airhole in the ice, during the early part 
of the spring. Bundy, a colored man, was drowned 
in the Tazlina River where Gokona Charley had 
been drowned the year before. 

In 1898 four men were exploring and prospect- 
ing in the Chitina country. At the foot of a high 
gravel bank, a stone that rolled down the embank- 
men broke a leg of one of the party. These heroes 
bandaged the broken limb, threw away all unneces- 
sary articles, improvised a litter with a blanket and 
carried their wounded companion out of that coun- 
try. One carried the scanty provisions and cut the 
way with a hatchet, while the other two carried and 
rested at intervals. They crossed dangerous rivers, 
waded through swamps, climbed over hills, and were 
days in doing it. They used up all of their supplies 
and were nearly exhausted when they arrived on 
the bank of the Copper River. There they secured 
a boat, took the invalid down the river, and placed 
him on board a steamer bound for home, where, no 
doubt, he remembered his heroic deliverers and 
their gallant struggle with gratitude. Five years 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 335 

after that incident, a few picks and shovels were 
found where they had left them, and where valu- 
able placer diggings were later discovered. 

Young men who went to Alaska desired to secure 
fortunes that their sweethearts might be insured 
a home and comfort, to enjoy matrimonial bliss. 
Contentment constitutes happiness and not money. 
Away among the nooks of the hills and forests it 
may be found. There where the vines lovingly en- 
twine the cabin; where flowers display their smiles 
to the morning sunlight; where the babbling brook 
murmurs love, and the birds sing it in the trees, if 
love dwell in the cabin, there also live the million- 
aires of happiness. 

I was accosted by a young man who had returned 
from a summer's prospecting. He evidently was 
extremely happy, and slapping me on the shoulder 
announced his success in locating some good ground 
and selling it for a reasonable sum. 

" Come up to my room and I will tell you about 
it! " said he. 

In the room he threw down a lot of unopened 
letters he had received, and picking up a neatly ad- 
dressed one he exclaimed : 

" Ha, ha ! That's from the best girl that ever 
lived! She caused me to come north, and I have 
suffered and starved, fought and bled with the devil 
of the wild, for her sake. I was financially bank- 
rupt and needed only enough to care for her in 



336 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

proportion to my love. I desired so much to place 
myself on an equal plane with her, in order that she 
might refer to her property as ours. I did not want 
her property, but marriage should be an equal part- 
nership, and I hoped to be equal to her standard; 
but she seemed not to understand. Oh, how I suf- 
fered because of a love that I feared I could not 
make happy! 

" Many times have I awakened with tears in my 
eyes, because I was not in a position to care for her, 
as she had been raised. Sometimes I thought she 
did not care for me at heart, for never once did she 
express a line of sympathy for me — not one line of 
anxiety or caution, although she must have known 
I was risking my life for her. 

" Apparently she did not care sufficiently for me 
to study the map of Alaska for ten short minutes, so 
that she might talk intelligently of the country when 
I had returned three thousand miles to visit her. 
The worst of all was, that she never encouraged me 
to do a thing. Mind you, I did not need her sym- 
pathetic encouragement, but desired so earnestly to 
see those noble principles in her. A man's life is in 
the hands of the woman he loves, and she can elevate 
his morals and stimulate him with encouraging in- 
fluence, or she can, by the absence of such influence, 
drive him to the depths of despondency and possibly 
to despair. 

" Because of her indifference I doubted. I did not 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 337 

turn to drink, but to this path I bridle-reined myself 
from the possibility of following other trails to dis- 
sipation, and in consideration of my deep love for 
her I threw myself into the wilds of the frontier, 
beyond all temptation. 

" Although she is refined and educated, she has 
never quoted one line of prose or poetry in all our 
correspondence. Despite it all, I felt somehow that 
she cared for me. If I had been quite sure of her 
love, and had had the necessary home of my own to 
have made her happy, I should have been the hap- 
piest man on earth. Now, at last, although I fear 
she has waited long, I possess enough to make us a 
little earthly heaven. Please be indulgent while I 
read what she has written in this, another of her all- 
too-short missives." 

His face was all aglow with hope and animation, 
while he picked up the neatly addressed letter and 
carefully opened it, as though it were almost too 
sacred to mutilate. I asked myself : How could love 
exist without expressive sympathy and anxiety, inter- 
est and encouragement for proof? Direct words 
of " I love you," are too easily said to be sufficient 
proof to one so deeply in earnest, whose love was so 
imperative that it demanded absolutely moral and 
refined expression in exchange for his affection. 

While admiring the carefully addressed envelope 
that indicated the neatness, precision and ideality of 
the writer I was forced also to admire his manhood, 



338 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

nerve and morality that had induced him to throw 
the current of his life away from all temptation, in 
her behalf. As he had intimated, she could not pos- 
sibly understand. Before he began reading, he added, 
as if interpreting my thoughts : 

" Whenever I looked for that proof of her love I 
met with disappointment. If she had taken an in- 
terest in my life, which meant so much to both of us, 
instead of being silently — and I might say stolidly — 
indifferent, my doubts never would have existed, to 
have handicapped my success, and I would not have 
cared for money through which to obtain happi- 
ness. " 

As he read quietly, his face gradually changed 
from an expression of joy to one of anxiety, and 
presently he murmured aloud: 

" And — she — really — did — love — me! " 

His face then quickly turned white, and he tightly 
crumpled the letter as he — dry-eyed — stared into 
vacancy with an expression of intense agony. I 
watched his finger-nails sink deeply into the flesh of 
his clinched hand, and deeper and deeper they sank, 
but no feeling was there, for all sensitiveness was in 
his heart and it was bleeding. In steady, monoto- 
nous and steel-like tones he exclaimed: 

"Too late! Too late!" 

I arose to depart, saying that I would drop in at 
some other time. When closing the door, I glanced 
back and saw that the chalk-like face was down in 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 339 

the crook of his elbow, on the table, and I heard him 
murmur : 

"Too late! Too late!" 

As I walked away I asked myself: 

"Did she love him?" 

I doubted. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

"Round brightly burning campfires, they would sit and 
spit and spit, 
While the tales of some old liars, or perchance a bit of 

wit, 
Would cause the laugh to circle; then for encores they 

would call, 
For campfire laughs and stories are the heartiest of them 

air 

Here are a few reminiscences and campfire 
stories : 

A small husband and his very large wife attempted 
to cross the Valdez glacier in 1898, by the man pull- 
ing a hand-sled and the woman guiding. When 
nearly exhausted, the little man sat down on the sled 
and, wiping the sweat from his face, said: 

" Mary, don't you wish you were back on the 
farm?" 

" No, I don't! It was Alaska, Alaska, if you 
could only get to Alaska you'd make your fortune; 
now, confound you, let's see you do it ! Get in there 
and mush on! " 

And with a sigh the poor little fellow replaced the 
collar over his head and " mushed on." 

When an Alaska dog-driver addresses his dogs 

340 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 341 

by the word, " Mush," they readily understand that 
it means "Go!" If working, they pull harder 
when so addressed, and if in a tent, they go outside. 

Two Irishmen were watching a dog-team pull. 
Observing the leader's actions when so addressed, 
one turned to his companion and said: 

" Sure now, thot dorg Mush is a foin puller! " 

" Faith, and they feed thim on the diet of mush, 
and it's the promise of it thot moiks thim pull," he 
answered. 

It is related of an Alaska dog-driver that after 
driving a team of dogs all winter, he came down to 
Seattle, and entered a restaurant for breakfast. The 
waiter, as is customary, inquired " Mush? " and the 
dog-driver, looking up in astonishment, seized his 
hat and walked out. 

The same dog-driver was once lost on the glacier, 
and when asked why he didn't consult his compass, 
he answered: 

" I threw the blamed thing away." 

" Why did you do that? " was asked. 

" Because it wouldn't point north," he answered. 

Prospectors generally are extensive travelers. A 
man by the name of Palmer went to Dawson in 
1898, thence down the river 2000 miles to St. 
Michael's, thence to Nome, thence to Dutch Harbor, 
where he boarded an English vessel for Japan. He 
then went to Korea, and from there to the Philip- 



342 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

pines, where he prospected in the mountain districts; 
thence back to San Francisco, thence to Chicago, and 
in 1902 he camped with me in the Copper River 
country, Alaska. 

When relating his experience, one night, while sit- 
ting by the campfire, he said that when he was a 
boy he had worked for a man in Missouri who paid 
him off in worthless bank-notes. When asked what 
he had done with the notes, he replied: 

11 Oh, I found some people down in the southern 
part of the state who could neither read nor write, 
so I spent 'em." 

Palmer once bet five dollars with a stuttering kid 
that he could spit nearer than he to a mark, placed 
seven feet from a given line on which they should 
stand. The challenge was accepted, and the kid, 
toeing the line, made a commendable squirt. Pal- 
mer followed, and lying flat on the floor, with his 
toes on the line and his face within a foot of the 
mark, he began to pucker, with a certainty of win- 
ning the money. When the stuttering kid realized 
the trick, and also his danger of loss, he jumped up 
and began such a stuttering remonstrance that Pal- 
mer was compelled to laugh, and of course that de- 
stroyed his pucker, causing him to shoot wild of the 
mark and lose the wager. 

Seattle, the city on the hills, the future gateway 
to half the world, is the winter rendezvous for the 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 343 

most fortunate prospectors. Here false friends 
await their return, and too often the inexperienced 
fellows fall easy victims to the unprincipled vam- 
pires of humanity. They may be rich in pocket, 
but poor in experience with the outside world. Their 
years of isolation have caused them to forget and 
forgive, and now their hearts long for sociability. 

They have left the dark recesses of the forests, the 
lonely canyons and hardships of the trail; and now 
the music of the deadfalls, the swirl of the dance, 
and the sociability of the lower strata of humanity 
are in such vivid contrast to the howl of the wolf- 
dog, the hoot of the owl, and the dying embers of the 
campfire, that their heads too often whirl in dizzy 
intoxication because of their new, bright and daz- 
zling surroundings. They meet false friends, but 
they care not, as their big hearts have long bled for 
companionship, and now their money is as free as 
the dashing silvery sprays on the mountain-sides, 
that flash like diamonds in Alaska's sunlight. 

Three men who had just returned from the north 
were enjoying comfort in one of Seattle's hotels. 
One was an old-time prospector, in possession of all 
the peculiar expressions of his class; the second was 
a packer, who had been running a pack-train to the 
mines, and who could talk nothing but horse lore; 
and the third had been a sailor and a sea-captain 
most of his life, but had been caught in the gold 
rush, and had prospected for two years. They had 



344 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

come down together and were comparing notes of 
their experiences during their first forty-eight hours 
in the city. 

" I say, fellers," said the prospector, " IVe struck 
a lead ! She's pure mineral gloss, a yard wide, with 
well-defined hangin' walls — pure glance, and a fissure 
vein runnin' square across the contact! She's in hard 
luck, and her mother's sick, and didn't I dig up? 
What's a hundred or two, anyway? Talk about 
valuable properties and lucky strikes ! I tell ye she's 
a beaut, and I'm goin' to locate accordin' to the rules 
of this deestrict." 

Then the declaimer drew a cigar from his pocket, 
bit off the end and settled himself back for a smok- 
ing anticipation of future happiness. 

" I caught a bronk myself," said the packer. 
" Met her down the trail, just below here, where a 
feller had her corraled, and he introjuced us, and as 
she was going home alone, and was sorter skittish- 
like and timid, I asked the privilege uv trottin' with 
her. Bust my cinch if she isn't slick as a mole, with 
neck uv a fawn and eyes uv an antelope. She's a 
thoroughbred, without a blemish, not even a wind- 
gall, and I said I'd put my dough on her when I fust 
threw the blanket across her wethers." 

" I sighted a craft myself! " chimed in the sailor. 
" She was one uv the neatest sailors that ever flew 
canvas, and when spoken she heaved to and we 
hitched on, sorter-like ; come to find out, she had lost 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 345 

her reckoning and I put her on her course. When 
she found that my cargo was mineral, she advised 
me to take in sail and go a little slower. Shiver my 
mainmast if she wasn't a clipper fer yer glasses! 
What's money, if ye don't do good with it? When 
called on by a ship in distress, answer, * Aye, Aye, 
sir! ' Them's my sentiments. But, by the way, 
Mr. Packer, was the bark ye were sailin' with, the 
one ye were alongside uv when ye passed the Diller 
Light-house? " 

'" That wuz the filly I wuz trottin' with, and right 
thar wuz where we made the fust turn, and she wuz 
next the pole and close up ! " 

" The one with the top-gallant, and long canvas 
draggin' ? " 

" Yep; thar wuz most too much blanket." 

" Pard, my sail's down and the anchor is over- 
board! Goin' to compute recknin' fer a few days, 
then tack ship on another course! My log says, we 
met the same vessel and she were a pirate ! Yes, sir, 
a pirate ! " 

" Do ye say that wuz the winner ye picked and 
lost yer scads? " 

"Yep^ and I say mor'n that! I say let's enter 
some snug harbor and drink to each other's storms 
and head-winds." 

They shook hands and then concluded to take the 
miner with them. When awakened from his medi- 
tations, he said: 



346 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

" I'll go, gents, fer I think I've been working the 
same drift, but fust, allow me to ask a few. Was 
the lead ye were follerin' carryin' a black capping 
and did it have a prominent gray foot-wall ? " 

" Yep, the sail wuz gray," said the sailor. 

" Was the sparklers a black oxide? " 

" Yep," replied the sailor. 

" Dark and sort uv languishin'," added the packer. 

" Well, fellers, we might as well throw our 
sledges into the brush, touch the fuse to our powder 
and blow out! I'm with ye!" 

Charley Mamon was chased by a grizzly, and 
when asked why he ran, he answered: 

" Because I couldn't fly, sir! " 

McCarthy was chased by a female grizzly, and 
he came running into camp with his hat in one hand 
and a hatchet in the other. He was asked why he 
didn't throw the hatchet at her, and he replied that 
he .needed that to cut the wind as he ran. 

While in the north I came within four inches of 
making a fortune. I found asbestos with fibre one 
inch long, and if it had been Rve I should have made 
a fortune. It is embarrassing to be a millionaire. 
When disporting a gold-nugget chain in a Seattle 
hotel lobby, a man was overheard to remark: 

" There is one of those Alaska millionaires! " 

At that particular time, I couldn't have purchased 
a sandwich for an ant. 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 347 

We entered a large tent at Valdez, which was a 
sort of a rendezvous for prospectors, miners, pack- 
ers and their retinues, and where tobacco smoke was 
about all that could be seen until one's eyes became 
accustomed to the surroundings. A man in a cor- 
ner said: 

" Bring yer carcass over here, pard, and quiet yer- 
self on my sleeping-bag, fer a feller that looks like 
ye should not be seen and seldom heard." 

The invitation was accepted with a comment to 
the speaker for his applicable remarks, and the con- 
versation was resumed. 

" I say, Lew, what kind uv a trip did ye have to 
Slate Creek? " asked one. 

" Just two hundred miles uv a picnic," replied 
Lew, " except we had a tenderfoot uv a veterinary 
surgeon along who didn't know straight up. We 
tried to lose him on the Gokona, but the chump 
stumbled into camp by accident. That Yazoo 
couldn't boil water without burnin' it. Veterinary! 
Why, he didn't even know that a wart from a horse's 
leg would cure the colic ! " 

" Wuz that the feller what wore the leggins? " 

" Yep." 

" Gee ! That feller didn't have brains enough to 
oil a gimblet ! Chris and Nick should have had him 
along with them when they were amusin' the bar. 
Say, Chris, tell the boys about yer bar fight on the 
Copper." 



348 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

11 Out with it," demanded another. 

Chris began to move uneasily about on a sack of 
flour, and evidently the subject was about to be 
changed to bears. 

" Steam up, Chris, we're waitin'," ordered the 
engineer of a little steam launch that plied between 
Valdez and Fort Liscum. 

" Well," said Chris, " Nick and me did see a bar 
and the bar seed us ! I said, ' Nick, better shoot ! ' 
Nick, he shot; bar come, we run! I fell down and 
said, * Nick, better shoot ! ' Nick he shot, bar 
bawled and we run ! I fell in a creek, but when I got 
out, I said, c Nick, better shoot ! ' Nick he shot, and 
we run through some brush and up a hill. We looked 
and couldn't see any bar, and we listened and we 
couldn't hear any bar, and I said, ' Nick, better 
shoot, anyway ! ' Nick he shot, and we came to 
Valdez!" 

" How long did you go without a hat, Chris? " 

" About three weeks." 

Evidently he had jumped from under his hat, had 
never returned for it and had come eighty miles to 
Valdez. Uncle Charley remarked : 

" If dose fellers hat not peen smart peoples dey 
would not got avay alife ! " 

A military officer came in to smoke and to listen 
to the edifying conversation, and " Windy Jim " 
concluded that the officer should be introduced to 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 349 

some one ; so he jumped up and with assumed gravity 
introduced him to " Uncle " Charley Brown, who 
asked : 
" You say he vas a soltger? " 

" Yes, Uncle Charley, this is an officer in the 
United States Army." 

" Oh, I tought he vas a Swede ! " 

The officer asked Uncle Charley's nationality, and 
he replied: 

" I vos a Timocrat! " 

Presently the proprietor walked to the center of 
the room and stretched and yawned as an indication 
that he wished to retire, but it was an abortive at- 
tempt, for no one wished to take the hint. They 
sang songs and finished by singing: 

" Round my Alaska cabin lie the goldfields, 
In the distance looms the glacier, clear and cool; 
Oftimes my thoughts revert to scenes of childhood, 
And I wish I were a boy again at school." 

Again the proprietor stepped to the center of the 
room and kindly requested his partner to retire and 
give the visitors a chance to go home ; whereupon he 
was caught, and his arm held out while all took 
several turns at shaking it and bidding him good- 
night. 

The next day a packer approached Ed , lead- 
ing a horse, and said: 

" Ed, I'm goin' to take ye up on yer price for this 



350 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 



piebald plug uv yourn, but I'm goin' to straddle him 
first and want ye to hold his smellers while I git off 
the earth." 

" If ye are hankerin' after suicidin' by tryin' to 
ride him without a saddle, he'll help ye, fer he's a 
mighty commodatin' cuss in that respect, but ye bet- 
ter leave me the address uv yer relatives." 

As Bill hitched up his trousers, preparatory to 
making the mount, Ed took a firm hold of the 
horse's nose and remarked: 

" Somethin's goin' to drap ! " 

When Bill was, as he believed, firmly seated, he 
ordered the horse turned loose, and then there was 
a commotion, for the rider took two turns in the air 
and came down in a manner that indicated firmness. 
He arose, and as he hobbled up to Ed, he handed 
out the money, saying: 

" He's mine! Yer see I was stuck on him, Ed! " 

" Yep, for about three jumps ! " replied Ed, as he 
took the money, and added: 

" As the performance was better than advertised, 
Bill, I guess the pizen is on me, so we'll irrigate! " 
and the two started off to interview King Alcohol. 

Frank met a bear on the shore of the Klu- 

tena Lake, and by killing him, established his repu- 
tation as a bear hunter. Dr. T insisted that 

Frank should accompany him to the haunts of many 
bear, up the St. Anne Creek. They ascended about 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 351 

a mile, and stationed themselves on each side of a 
point where bear came out every evening to feed on 
salmon, and where one could watch up the creek and 
the other down. 

Presently Frank heard the doctor shooting as 
rapidly as he could pump his Winchester, and look- 
ing over he saw the M. D. shooting at his own large 
black dog, that was tracking them over the creek 
bars, down below. The doctor's eyesight was poor 
and he wore glasses, but he continued to shoot until 
the dog ran right up to him, and when he discovered 
his mistake, he exclaimed: 

" The Holy Moses ! I might have shot my own 
dog!" 

Frank laughed at him, for missing his dog, until 
the doctor became angry and said : 

" You infernal imbecile ! I might have killed my 
own dog ! I don't want to be alone with a laughing 
idiot, anyway," and accordingly started for camp. 
Frank concluded to overtake him and, by apologiz- 
ing, get him back in a good humor. 

After traveling half a mile, he came to where the 
doctor was standing on the bank of the creek, watch- 
ing the salmon swimming in clear water about ten 
feet below and, as he wore a handkerchief tied over 
his ears, because of mosquitoes, he failed to hear the 
approach of his mischievous companion. The water 
was about five feet deep, and it suddenly occurred to 
Frank to give the M. D. a scare; so, acting on the 



352 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

impulse of the moment, he jumped and grabbed the 
doctor, emitting a savage growl, whereupon the doc- 
tor yelled a war-whoop, turned around, ran back- 
wards and fell into the creek. 

Fortunately he had dropped his weapon and it 
had sunk to the bottom, for, when pale with fright 
and half-strangled, he arose and stood upright in 
the water and saw Frank there, roaring with laugh- 
ter, he swore he would shoot such a laughing idiot, 
just as soon as he could get his gun. Every time he 
reached down after the gun, the water came over his 
head and caused him to straighten up ; then he would 
renew his declaration and Frank would yell with 
laughter. As the doctor was making desperate ex- 
ertions, it dawned on Frank that his pacifying efforts 
had been a complete failure, and he took to the 
brush and remained in seclusion for several days. 

AN ALASKA RIVER INCIDENT 

" I don't believe I should attempt to raft across 
the river right here, but I should tow along the 
shore up to that point, if I were you. There is dan- 
ger of your going through the rapids down below, 
and, while you could surely cross before reaching 
the box canyon, a mile farther down, yet it is rather 
dangerous to risk it." 

" Well, suppose I do go through the wild water 
down there, I've not been killed nor drowned up-to- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 858 

date and I'll risk being carried down to the box 
canyon. 

The thought of the box canyon was enough to 
cause a shudder to pass through one's anatomy, for 
a raft would probably emerge at the outlet, four 
miles below, merely as kindling wood. 

14 1 know," continued Ben, " that a raft on water 
is just about as stubborn as a donkey on land, but 
I'll take this chance, because the rapids don't amount 
to much, anyway." 

He pushed the five-log craft out on the water, 
and the swift current soon took him to where it was 
too deep for his pole to reach bottom. Ben was a 
happy-go-lucky fellow, without fear, and he was a 
skilled frontiersman, who could not be killed, or 
drowned under ordinary circumstances. 

" By George ! He is going through the rapids, 
as sure as fate ! " exclaimed Will. " Let us take a 
cut-off for the bend of the river and have some fun 
at coaching him as he comes by." 

We ran two hundred yards across a sharp point, 
and emerged on the bank just as Ben came rushing 
along. He was seated on the raft, holding on 
tightly while the angry waters dashed against his 
face. We intended to advise him not to hurry, to 
go a little slower, and had laughed at the absurdity 
of the advice as we had run along the trail, but Ben 
anticipated us, and with grinning countenance, 
yelled : 



354 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

"If you fellows have anything to say to me, go 
to the canyon, for I'll be down there in just about 
ten minutes! " 

We roared with laughter as he went bobbing 
through the rapids, and because he had half a mile 
after he was through, in which to reach the opposite 
shore, we gave little thought to the box canyon, 
below. 

" See! " exclaimed Will, " he is not making head- 
way; in fact, I believe he is losing! There must be 
a strong current, down there, beating him back 
towards this side!" 

We then realized that Ben's ride on the river had 
developed from a mere joke into serious danger, 
and we watched with bated breath his gallant strug- 
gle for life. We were powerless to assist him, and 
as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, it 
appeared to us that he was already entering the 
dreaded box canyon — that terrible boiling, foaming, 
sinuous water serpent. It crawls undertowingly by, 
where precipitous walls hang 600 feet above. 

The sun sank in the northwest and the curtain of 
twilight was lowered on that dreadful scene of man 
and raft flying into the mouth of that yawning 
vortex. We could do nothing, and as we turned 
towards camp it was with a feeling of certainty that 
no power of man could save the life of big, good- 
hearted Ben. 

The night settled down apparently with deeper 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 355 

darkness than usual, and the lonely owl-hoots seemed 
announcements of death. Even Pete, our dog, 
looked sad, whined and cast longing glances down 
the river. There was Ben's sleeping-bag where he 
had spread it beneath a spruce in anticipation of a 
night's rest when he returned, and there was his gun 
hanging in a near-by tree. All seemed to add to our 
melancholy; but the saddest part of it was the fact 
that we had been powerless to lend assistance. After 
supper, we talked of the incident; and then tried to 
divert the subject to something else, but in vain. 
We retired, but could not sleep. Presently Will 
arose, rebuilt the fire and declared he should not 
sleep a wink that night. Then we sat there and 
talked for an hour about spending the morrow be- 
low the canyon seaching for the body of poor Ben. 
Shortly after midnight, as Will was putting the 
coffee-pot on the fire, an owl gave an extra hoot 
and the dog jumped up and gave a bark of recogni- 
tion. Then these words came from the dark recesses 
of the forest : 

" That's right, Will, for I'm hungry." 
It was Ben ! Just before entering the canyon the 
raft had broken in pieces, and with one log he had 
been carried into an eddy which had hurled him over 
against the shore on our side. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

We'll forget the cold December, when the north winds 
played their tune, 

But of green vales we'll remember, when 'twas all day- 
light in June; 

And we'll harken to the calling of the wild life and pursue 

Where are songs of waters falling and the broad leaves nod 
to you. 

When one departs from Alaska, there must al- 
ways be the feeling that one is leaving a wonder- 
land. The reader may think that too much emphasis 
is being placed on that statement, but those who are 
in close touch with Nature as there revealed realize 
the majestic scale of the panorama. To be able to see 
a mountain 150 miles away is wonderful; and so are 
the smoking volcanos and the glaciers. The sudden 
appearance and disappearance of mountains and 
islands is also wonderful. 

Islands have been known to arise from the Pacific 
ocean as far back as when the Russians were explor- 
ing its waters, and some of them also have sunken. 
Castle Rock came up in 1779, and in 1903 Fire 
Island arose not far from it. In 1906 Perry, or 
McCulloch Island arose between them to a height 
of 395 feet, and while it was hot and steam was 
emitting from it, some men climbed to the top. That 

356 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 357 

island, before it had cooled, sank with a loud explo- 
sion on September i, 1907. Now there is only a 
sand-spit connecting Castle Rock and Fire Island. 

These and many other facts go to prove it to be a 
wonderland. Even St. Patrick must have thought 
it worthy of notice, for he, with his magic staff, evi- 
dently struck Alaska with the same effect as when he 
blessed Ireland. There are no snakes in Alaska, and 
only a few tree frogs, to give one a creepy sug- 
gestion. 

When we boarded the ship for the States it was 
raining that continuous downpour, which signifies to 
the prospector that it will continue until it snows. 
The fog clung dismally to the mountain-sides, when 
possibly at the same time the top peaks were pierc- 
ing through into sunshine. 

The seagulls forlornly drooped their wings and 
all Nature seemed in gloom. It is remarkable how 
true are the old sayings regarding the weather. I 
will testify to the fact that the adage, " When rain 
begins before seven, it will quit before eleven," posi- 
tively came true in Alaska. It began before seven 
in August and quit before eleven in November. I 
should be too modest to make an official report of 
the rainfall to the weather bureau. A prospector, 
who, I admit, might have drunk rather freely of 
glacier water at some time or another, declared that 
it rained into a beer bottle until it was burst. He 
offered to show me the broken glass. 



358 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Our ship rode at anchor at Katella. Gasoline 
launches invited passengers to land where there were 
mud-sidewalks in a newly-built town; also saloons 
and blear-eyed gamblers. Bruised combatants had 
filled the hospital there. They had been fighting 
over a railroad right of way that extended from the 
near-by coal fields to the copper in the interior. 

It is probable that when a railroad is built, it will 
be to private properties, and the poor mine-owner, 
who happens to be a little to one side, will be left 
to die a natural death, while his property will be 
gathered in by a great smelter trust, that is trying 
apparently to bottle up Alaska. 

As our ship left the main, the overhanging 
gloom, the dissipated and bruised faces all suggested 
a repetition of the dogma, " There's never a law of 
God or man runs north of fifty-three." But with 
all this there is a call from out the wild, and a fas- 
cination that beckons. While weak ones fall, 
Alaska also builds character, self-reliance and manli- 
ness. 

Our ship carried us out into a storm. I am sur- 
prised that I am not numbered with the drowned. 
A relative once prayed that I should have fair wind 
on my voyage to the north, when it meant adverse 
winds for all others coming on an opposite course. 
It is a wonder that he didn't get me into trouble. 

We left the ocean and entered the calm inside 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 359 

passage near Alaska's collar button known as Cape 
Spencer, where in Icy Straits 

" His lordly ships of ice 
Glisten in the sun; 
On each side, 
Like pinions wide 
Flashing crystal streamlets run." 

It was there that the steamer Dora struck an ice- 
berg, and in order to be saved was run on a near-by 
beach, when the firemen were waist-deep in water. 
Dave Rhodes, a government packer from Copper 
River, when relating the incident, said: 

" I'll just be dad-blamed if it didn't look mightily 
like wadin' ! " 

When one goes to Alaska in summer, by way of 
the inside route, one feels secure from danger. If 
an accident should happen to the ship, it could be 
run easily on the near-by shore ; or, if you were com- 
pelled to go ashore in a rowboat, you could paddle 
it with your hands; or, you might even ride a spar; 
or, if you could kick a little bit, you could swim 
ashore, and the light would enable you to see just 
where to land. Yes, one feels secure in summer, 
but it is different in winter. Then the nights are 
long, stormy and black — dark would not be the 
proper term. 

Probably you cannot see the shore on a stormy 
night, even if it be but a few hundred yards away, 



360 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

and you become restless. You wonder how that 
storm-beaten, wrinkled and fierce-visaged pilot, who 
walks the bridge, can know within twenty miles of 
his location, much less make the many intricate turns 
with that boat. You strain your eyes trying to look 
through that ink blackness, and occasionally you see 
the massive shape of a mountain, apparently right 
in front of your ship, and you hold your breath 
while that pilot steers the boat right into it — that is, 
he simply enters a crack, while you realize that the 
denser blackness is on both sides of the vessel, and it 
was only the shores that approached nearer to- 
gether. 

The rain beats across the deck with the wind, and 
it is with difficulty that you stand there, but you are 
interested. You want to know just when to jump, 
for you are satisfied that the final climax of that 
voyage is near at hand. You know that rocks must 
be close to the surface, where no human eye can see 
them, and you feel that all of the passengers who are 
sleeping in their berths will be drowned like rats in 
a trap. 

Occasionally the pilot blows the whistle, and the 
echo quickly returns from the mountain on the star- 
board side, and the pilot bears the boat off to the 
port side, just a little. He was feeling evidently 
with his ear! You become drenched to the skin 
while waiting for the wrecking that does not come, 
and you wish it would hurry along, as the strain is 
almost too much for your nerves. When you can 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 361 

withstand the severity of the storm no longer, you 
retire, with resolving to go down with the rest. 

You are awakened from your sleep by the stop- 
ping of the engines and then the boat lies quietly for 
an hour or two. Just as you begin to continue your 
snoring, you are awakened by the starting of the 
engines. That unpretending pilot, that epitome of 
wisdom, who can work both solar and lunar observa- 
tions, calculate azimuths, find the arithmetical com- 
plement of logarithms, build false rudders on stormy 
seas and who can tie all kinds of complicated rope- 
knots, now impresses you that he has discovered 
a rift in a cloud which has disclosed to him a 
familiar mountain-top, a tree-top, or some other 
object that indicates another entrance to total dark- 
ness. 

,You are astonished at the ability of that death- 
facing, but duty-loving, pilot to follow the many in- 
tricate windings, and you wonder if salt water does 
not course through his veins. To follow those 
curves is as simple to him as it was to you, in your 
childhood days, to follow the path that led to school. 
It is as simple to him as for the frontiersman to read 
the approximate time of day or night by the clocks 
of heaven. 

If I were on a winter voyage to or from Alaska, 
I should feel safer when a thousand miles from land, 
where pilots are unnecessary, and where progress is 
made by dead reckoning — but a dry death is gen- 
erally considered preferable. In summer time — ah! 



362 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

can one ever forget the tranquillity of a summer 
voyage through those inside passageways? 

The weather was good to us, and the evenings 
were so calm and warm that when we passed the In- 
dian town of Metlakaptla, we were greeted by the 
Indian cornet band, assembled on the wharf. The 
music sounded beautifully, as it came to us over the 
quiet water and apparently from a wilderness sur- 
rounding that little village. 

I have listened to a hundred trained human voices 
in a rendition of Mendelssohn's oratorio of " Eli- 
jah," and it was truly wonderful; but even that was 
far excelled, to my mind, by a thousand orally 
trained voices of the wilderness, singing without 
written notes. This was done by a flock of black- 
birds. When a boy, I used to secrete myself near 
them, to listen to their melodious song. One would 
start, then another would add his little voice, and 
another, and still more, until probably a thousand 
little voices were raised in glad song. Suddenly, 
and on one note, they would stop ! It has always 
been a mystery to me how that great number of 
birds could train themselves to sing so long, and yet 
know on which precise note to make that sudden 
stop. Fright was not the cause, for they continued 
to repeat their song over and over again. 

Their singing is no less wonderful than the black- 
bird aerial drill. To witness that, one must be 
within a few miles of the extensive swamps where 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 363 

they hatch their young. One must be a mile at least 
from the flock to obtain a proper view of the 
maneuvering. Few are ever so fortunate as to see 
this grand spectacle. 

Of course, one could not see a single bird, for in 
drilling there may be many thousands. They will 
scatter so that they appear to fade away, then will 
form together in a large black ball; then that ball 
will contract and bulge out at the top and bottom 
until there are three great spheres. Often they will 
run up to a point forming a cone, then dissolve into 
a large circular ring and again form in mass and an 
inverted cone. Their many beautiful ribbonlike 
maneuverings are truly surprising, and one wonders 
how every single bird can know his exact place in 
assisting the forming with his little body of those 
gigantic aerial figures. Although we too are a part 
of Nature, human beings have not yet been capable 
of doing what can be done by those intelligent little 
blackbirds. 

The reader may wish to know something more 
about that Indian town just mentioned. The mis- 
sionary is the only white man allowed there. The 
Indians have their own sawmill, their own electric 
light plant, and they build their own comfortable 
houses. Their children go to church and Sunday 
school. Those Indians make a living at fishing for 
the southern markets. Their cornet band is worthy 
of notice anywhere, and has given exhibitions in 



364 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

Seattle. I believe President Roosevelt once recom- 
mended justly, that they be allowed to acquire title 
to mining properties. 

We were surprised at the development of the 
coast, bordering the inside passage. The thriving 
town of Ketchekan had been built, and smelters had 
been constructed for the reduction of ores discovered 
on the islands. Port Prince Rupert, near old Fort 
Simpson, has been chosen as the terminal of the 
Canadian Grand Trunk Pacific railroad — another 
steel band which is soon to reach across the con- 
tinent. 

Just inside of the Alaska boundary line, near Hun- 
ter's Bay, are numerous copper discoveries. There 
is evidence of an old mine there that possibly had 
been worked a thousand years ago. Carved stones 
have been found, covered a foot deep with moss and 
dirt. While miners were working 250 feet below 
the surface, they broke into an old chamber which 
was 105 feet long, 77 feet high and 20 feet wide. 
It contained old timbers, that are now mostly rotten 
wood and mould. It is supposed that this chamber 
was entered by way of a side-tunnel. Very little 
evidence of that tunnel remains, however, as it has 
been filled with lime-stone leachings. On top of the 
mountain, 3300 feet above the sea, there was un- 
earthed a number of old brass coins, with square 
holes in the center, indicating that once they had 
been used as Chinese money. 







G 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 365 

That discovery is worthy of more than a passing 
notice, and those who devote their time to such things 
might do well to investigate it. Judge Mellen, a 
reliable Alaskan, is probably the best-posted man 
living in regard to that discovery. It is one of those 
things which occasionally remind us that Columbus 
was only an official discoverer of America. 

Our voyage through British waters — Greenville 
Channel and many other passages — was pleasant, 
even in winter. We were finally awakened to a 
dreamy reality of the electric light of Seattle, twin- 
kling messages from civilization. 

In Seattle, little dog Pete industriously attended 
to his own feeding, in a way. He would dart down 
alleys to a place opposite the back doors of kitchens 
and there he would roll over, stand on his hind feet, 
bark and perform all the tricks that he knew for the 
cooks' benefit. The result was a feed of the best 
that was available. 

Mr. Beatie, Mr. Handrie and myself took Pete 
with us for a trip to Bremerton. The little steamer 
barely touched at Pleasant Beach, and Pete, thinking 
no doubt, that we were going ashore there, jumped 
onto the wharf. He had no more than done so, 
when the swift little steamer turned out into the 
stream and continued its journey. Pete looked per- 
fectly foolish, as he stood there on the wharf and 
watched us leave him. 

We remained at Bremerton all that day, and on 



366 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

our return we stopped off at Pleasant Beach for the 
little dog. We searched everywhere, made inquiries, 
and even crossed the Island to Point Blakeley, but 
could not hear one word of him. No one seemed 
to have seen such a dog on that island. 

About nine o'clock that night we hailed another 
boat and returned to Seattle. From the wharf we 
wound our way among moving trains, and crossed 
streets crowded with teams, street-cars and foot peo- 
ple, and about 1 1 o'clock we arrived at our hotel. 
There was Pete, awaiting our arrival, and he really 
seemed to say: 

" It's a pity that you fellows can't go anywhere 
without getting lost ! " 

He had watched for that particular boat, on its 
return, and quietly stolen aboard and returned to the 
hotel at Seattle. A twelve-year-old boy would not 
have used better judgment, yet a few egotistical 
human beings contend that only man is capable of 
reason. 

Pete was stolen from me at Seattle, and it was 
three months before I regained possession of him. 
He was found because he slipped away from his 
captors and returned to the hotel in search of his 
master. By the aid of a telegram, he was in my 
possession within two weeks, and with his head on 
my arm, I wiped tears from his eyes as he whined 
his glad recognition. At this writing, little dog 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 367 

Pete is on a California ranch, retired on a life 
pension. 

We Alaskans were astonished at the growth and 
improvement which the commerce with our northern 
country had developed in Seattle. During the pre- 
vious ten years, the Seattle bank clearings had in- 
creased from $1,000,000 per month to that much 
per day, and the exports and imports of Puget Sound 
had tripled, and so had Seattle's population. Ac- 
cording to the Pacific Monthly, Seattle's commerce 
by water during 1908 amounted to $122,000,000, 
and was carried by 1850 vessels. Two railroads had 
gophered tunnels beneath the city, and one could 
dimly foresee the future possibilities of all the cities 
bordering that Sound, which is really one end of the 
inside passage that is 1200 miles long. 

It is humiliating, after an Alaskan has risked his 
life a thousand times in the North, to come to civili- 
zation and be run over by an ice-wagon or a push- 
cart. While one of our number was dodging the 
street traffic, he proved himself to be a natural de- 
tective. He discovered a thief falling in love with 
his overcoat, so he stepped outside a West Seattle 
ferry building, leaving them alone together, and 
awaited the thief's departure. He stationed himself 
beside the door, intending to interfere with that 
elopement, by his detective abilities — and force, if 
necessary. These activities of his needed burnishing 



368 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

up a little, anyway. Just then a friend came along, 
and told such an interesting and laughable story 
that the would-be-detective forgot his duty and failed 
to observe the chief as he walked out within a few 
feet of him bearing the coat. A professional detec- 
tive might not have been able to have set a trap and 
then let the thief walk off with both trap and bait, 
but this amateur did. I was personally acquainted 
with this would-be-detective, because it was my over- 
coat. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

We have searched for Nature's treasure in the sharp peaks 3 
upper air, 

Where hearts beat to rapid measure, mid bleak glaciers and 
snow glare; 

And although our footsteps quicken, to meet brothers in the 
vale, 

We shall think of those, down-stricken, who now rest be- 
side the trail. 

THE END OF THE TRAIL 

I LEFT Seattle, wondering if my new overcoat 
could be taken as evidence of the " Seattle spirit," 
I had heard so much about. We passed through the 
city of Tacoma, where a smelter has an output of 
$1,000,000 per month. Alaska ore and concentrates 
shipped to this smelter amount to 7000 tons per 
month. Even fish are shipped down from Alaska 
to Tacoma and then to the Atlantic coast; which is 
a parallel to the proverb of " sending coals to New- 
castle." 

We passed around one of the long fingers of 
Puget Sound, which here extends far inland, and 
where the city of Olympia is growing around the 
nail. We crossed the great Columbia River — 
" Where rolls the Oregon," wrote Bryant, and Ore- 
gon it should have been named. We entered Oregon, 

369 



370 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

the State that is famous for its apples. I ate one, but 
it was a Ben Davis, and whenever I eat a Ben Davis 
apple I am reminded of the possibility of crossing 
a turnip with an osage orange. 

We passed up the banks of the Willamette River, 
the stream that S. L. Simpson's poem said was 
" softly calling to the sea." It was there that we 
saw the beautiful Mongolian pheasants in fields that 
were inclosed by old-fashioned worm-rail fences, 
just about as straight as some city officials we have 
read about. We passed one of many old farm- 
houses with the old-fashioned porch in front, the 
moss on the roof, " the well with the old oaken 
bucket," the stable and the cow shed, the strawstacks 
and the pigpen. One could imagine himself inside 
of that house and partaking of one of those old 
American farmers' dinners that are too good for a 
king. There was the orchard, the brook, the ash 
trees; and it all went to explain why the children of 
the Willamette, like those of the Missouri and the 
Wabash, speak of home so lovingly. 

Oregon! How much interesting history is asso- 
ciated with the name: the deeds of Marcus Whit- 
man, Joseph Lane and hundreds of others : of hard- 
ships and exposures, Indian battles and death. 
Those old pioneers came, struggled and conquered, 
and built up homes for their families, while they in 
turn have built up States. 

We climbed steep grades and descended into Cali- 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 371 

fornia. As we dropped into a deep canyon, I en- 
deavored to admire Mount Shasta, but it had lost 
the prestige it had for me when a boy. Mount Mc- 
Kinley, Mount Logan and Mount St. Elias are each 
a mile higher. A perpendicular mile would require 
a much larger base and would be a much greater 
monument; so much so, that even Mount Sanford, 
only half a mile higher, would look twice as large. 
It is the last half-inch that is added to one's nose 
which makes it remarkable. 

To the southwest, the distant mountains were rem- 
iniscent of boyhood days, of Russian and Eel Rivers, 
bucking mustangs and riettas; of babbling brooks, 
shady nooks and swimming holes. Lula McKnab, 
in Her beautiful and realistic poem, " Mendocino," 
said: 

" And as flows thy Russian River in the flood-time to the sea, 
So, O Mother Mendocino! turn thy children's hearts to thee." 

Here was once the hunter's paradise. Grouse 
drummed him to sleep, gray squirrels awakened him 
to listen to the call of the mountain quail, and he 
could kill a deer before breakfast if he so desired. 
Here one could lie in the shade of the pine, listen 
to the sighing of the breeze through the boughs, and 
thus renew his life-lease. 

In California's early days children played black- 
man with lassoes, and a boy's education was consid- 
ered incomplete until he had served a time as a vac- 



372 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

quero. When he was graduated at that, he was 
properly recognized in society. Then how proudly 
he would exhibit the large bells on his Spanish spurs 
that would properly lock the rowels; and tell of 
losing the hondas off his lariat when lassoing a black 
steer, which always roamed on the other side of 
the mountain. 

Young California would scorn to lasso a horse 
by any but a forefoot. How he would look down 
on an inferior ! These " cabelleros " prided them- 
selves in that and their gauntlet gloves, high-topped 
boots, red flaming scarfs and their ability to speak 
the Spanish language. They became tame citizens 
by settling down on farms and in cities. A few 
did enter the penitentiaries and others even entered 
politics, and all because the demand for their ro- 
mantic and preferable calling was limited. 

This narrative is about ended. The places on 
Prince William Sound, Alaska, where was heard 
not long since only the noise of the wild fowl, are 
now teeming with boats on the water and with 
miners and mechanics hammering on land. The 
laughter of the loon and the quacking of ducks 
are seldom heard, as they have flown to less fre- 
quented localities. Railroad companies are now 
competing for right of way to the interior by way of 
the Copper River and its valley, and when the prod- 
uct of the world's greatest copper mines are being 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 373 

smelted by fuel from the immense coal deposits 
there, then will be established enormous commerce 
with the Orient. 

This narrative describes and treats of about one- 
sixth part of Alaska. There are other rich districts 
known up there, and doubtless many that are yet 
unknown. 

When Captain Abercrombie, Sam Lynch and I 
camped and ate porcupine on the Tanana slope of 
the Alaskan Range, we were then in an unknown 
country. At that time a prospector who had been 
on the Tanana was a curiosity. To-day the prin- 
cipal city in Alaska is on the Tanana River. Nine 
million dollars of gold were produced from the 
Tanana River Valley in the year of 1906. More 
than 30,000 acres of land have been homesteaded in 
that valley. Vegetable gardening there has been 
very profitable. 

Alaska's output in gold 

The year of 1909 announces to the world that 
Alaska thus far has produced $300,000,000. The 
Seattle assay office alone, during the five years pre- 
vious to June, 1905, melted $100,000,000 of gold. 
The Alaska trade with the United States during the 
year of 1905 amounted to $3,000,000 per month. 
Alaska annually ships $10,000,000 worth of valu- 
able ores into the United States, and the product is 
rapidly increasing. 



374 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

COAL 

Alaska coal must be reckoned among the future 
products of the north. That country possesess all 
grades of coal from lignite to anthracite. Great 
deposits of coal are yet unknown to all but a few 
prospectors, trappers and Indians. The Indians call 
coal " fire-rock." The reported analysis of Con- 
troller Bay coal was: moisture, 2.18 per cent.; vol. 
comb, matter, 12.76; fixed carbon, 74.33; and ash, 
10.73 P er cent - Coal exists on both sides of the 
Alaskan Range, but the greatest known deposits 
are on the Tanana side. 

TIN 
Alaskans believe the world's supply of tin will 
soon be produced from the Seward Peninsula. It 
is more than probable that English capital will se- 
cure control of it and not allow the development to 
be inimical to the advantage of their already de- 
veloped mines in England, as they practically con- 
trol the price of the product. It is now necessary 
to send Alaska tin ore to Europe to have it reduced. 
The ore of Alaska is said to assay higher than that 
of the Eastern Hemisphere, and it is claimed that 
the deposits are far more extensive. In addition to 
the tin ore in place there are extensive placer tin 
deposits in gravel. 

SEALS 

The North American Commercial Company has 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 375 

the sealing rights leased from the government. 
Under the conditions, they are allowed to slaughter 
15,000 fur seals annually. These fur seals are 
rapidly becoming extinct. Japanese poachers have 
been intruding on the breeding grounds, and in 
1906 several of them were caught, and a few were 
shot, by the government guards while attempting 
their capture. 

SALMON 

One season's catch of salmon has amounted to 
more than 26,000,000 fish. This means that if 
those salmon were placed in a row, touching nose 
and tail, the string of fish would be more than 
10,000 miles long, and would continuously extend 
three times across the continent, easterly and west- 
erly. 

REINDEER 

At this time, 1280 reindeer have been imported 
from Siberia into Alaska at a cost to the United 
States of about $140 per head. They have increased 
to more than 10,000 and are destined to be one of 
Alaska's future valuable assets. 

A FEW FACTS 

We paid about two cents an acre for Alaska, 
where, if the beaver alone within its borders were 
protected for twenty years the value of their pelts 
would amount to more. That much was paid for 
a country that proudly claims more beautiful and im- 



376 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

pressive scenery than Switzerland, the Austrian 
Tyrol, Venice, Vesuvius, Pompeii and the bay of 
Naples; and which has locked in her bosom more 
coal than Pennsylvania, more tin than Wales, more 
iron than Sweden, more silver than Colorado, more 
copper than Montana and more gold than Cali- 
fornia. 

There are 59 domestic and 181 foreign corpora- 
tions operating in Alaska; also there are 26 news- 
papers; 50 Dept. U. S. mineral surveyors; more 
than 100 lawyers and nearly 300 notaries public. 

While the reader has been taken through the most 
mountainous, most picturesque and most difficult sec- 
tion to traverse in all Alaska, yet the scenes depicted 
of trail life may, in considerable degree, be accepted 
as characteristic of the trails in other localities. In 
summer the same long days light the way of the 
adventurous prospector, whether he be with an 
equally adventurous companion, or as part of a stam- 
pede to a new Eldorado, following untrodden courses 
into the mysterious north; the same battle with the 
pestiferous mosquitoes and gnats whose legions seem 
to guard the almost invisible kingdom of gold; the 
same examples of heroism and imprudence, of grit 
and hair-breadth escapes; and in the face of almost 
insurmountable difficulties. 

In the Copper River country the copper and 
precious metals are generally locked in the grasp 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 377 

of rock-ribbed and snow-mantled mountains. In the 
Yukon and its tributaries, Nature still protects its 
measureless riches in great beds of gravel and silt, 
and at Nome the old ocean beach seems a memorial 
of the scorn of the sea for the world's standard of 
value, as if to say: "All the gold of the world 
does not possess the intrinsic value of the moisture- 
laden clouds that I send to thirsty fields." 

Alaska has been maligned because it has been mis- 
understood. We must shamefully confess that the 
Hon. William H. Seward was subjected to scathing 
criticisms on the floor of Congress for recommend- 
ing its purchase. Now the true worth of the coun- 
try is rapidly becoming known to the white race, 
while " Lo, the poor Indian," indifferent to the pos- 
sibilities of his environment, will as quietly disappear 
as do the foggy mists of those valleys before the al- 
most continuous rays of Alaska's summer sun. The 
pioneers who labored, struggled and died will be 
forgotten, although they blazed the way and opened 
opportunities for their fellowmen, for it will be with 
them as with other pioneers throughout the world. 

There are many noted and worthy pioneers whose 
names are not mentioned in this narrative, as it was 
intended to describe the country and its conditions, 
rather than individuals. Most of those who re- 
mained were men of good principles. There have 
been heroes in Alaska, as noble as any in history. 
The lone prospector, ragged and destitute, clinging 



378 Trailing and Camping in Alaska 

to the hope that he might find a sufficiency for the 
loved ones at home, was there; and if he failed, and 
returned home penniless, he was a hero for trying. 
There are other heroes who could be mentioned, 
among them the noble seafaring men who walked 
the bridges of their ships in the many wintry storms. 

There are a few self-important but uninformed 
critics, who stand on an eminence of self-assumption 
and condemn all of the pioneers as an undeserving 
lot, but such are not worthy of consideration. They 
knew nothing of their hardships, privations and 
struggles, nor have they the fellow-feeling for their 
brother-man that pulsates in the breast of heroes, and 
actuates them to do noble things and accomplish 
great results. 

The frontiersman knows no superior and is sub- 
servient to none. He is his own physician, breathes 
pure ozone and lives a long life. He values you 
according to your honor and integrity, and not on 
your possessions or social position. The frontiers- 
men have been the greatest soldiers of all ages, and 
General Scott could tell them when to charge, but no 
one could tell them when to retreat. It is probable 
that his " dead shots," dressed in buckskin, composed 
the most formidable army of its size that the world 
has ever known. 

One thousand frontiersmen, who have been raised 
in the wild, if properly equipped with small arms 
and telescope rifles, could successfully defend a 



Trailing and Camping in Alaska 379 

mountainous district against one hundred thousand 
invaders. True, they would employ Indian tactics, 
and every man would be a general, but he would be 
a successful one, against one hundred of the machine- 
like drilled soldiers of modern times. 

The American frontiersmen, who are now among 
the mountains of the Pacific, have descended from 
the pioneers who conquered America for a more 
contented race, and they now long for other worlds 
to explore. Many Alaskans can trace their ancestry 
back to the banks of the Missouri, Tennessee and 
the Wabash rivers, where settled the pioneers who 
followed Boone's trace from Virginia. My sym- 
pathies are with them, and my ancestors mingled with 
and fought beside theirs. Indeed it is because of 
that inherited love for adventure that I spent ten 
years in Alaska. 

In these pages I have prospected over ten years 
of experiences, and many incidents have been lost 
in the panning, but I hope the reader's life-trail has 
been made no rougher by our having traveled this 
distance together. It is with reluctance that the 
wilds are temporarily exchanged for the cook-stoves 
and dyspepsia of civilization, and I regretfully leave 
the old campfire, with the pack-saddles scattered 
around it, and launch this literary raft to prospect 
other sands, farther down the river of life. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium uxia 
Treatment Date: 




PREFIX IONI ECHNOLUl* ra. uP. 



111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 

(724)779-2111 



msmm HH9H HH $&? 







gaaaaayi 

1 1 








1 ■ 




BBBB 


roH 


raw 





,S. RYofco ^Ress 




Hi IP 








H L 

| I ii 

in n hb ^i 

||3Bia|iJM BlHIB BHH »>&' 

n 







Sill 



___„ 



,flV-&:^fll 111 



